


Battle of Evermore

by annieapple24



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe-How to Train Your Dragon, Angels, Angels and Humans Fighting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 30,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2523803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annieapple24/pseuds/annieapple24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester, the son of John Winchester the chief and Head Hunter of the Viking Village. For centuries, the hunters in Dean's village have hunted and fought against the attacking angels. But what happens when Dean manages to wound and capture a rare black-winged angel? Will he kill it and proudly take the body back to the village and make his father proud? Or will the angel find its way into Dean's heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Angel Meets Human

**Author's Note:**

> This is a supernatural fic in a How to Train Your Dragon AU. But How to Train Your Angel was a crappy title. So I picked an amazing Led Zeppelin song title instead. Basically this fic mashes up Supernatural themes and characters in a Viking world with a little Norse Mythology, a little Old Testament mythology, and a crap-load of out of the time period terminology. Because I'm a big fan of that.

Dean slowly crept closer to the edge of the large, moss-covered rock that shielded his body from sight from the valley below. He peered down to the small lake searching for the dark shape he knew was there somewhere.

There. A large pair of pitch black wings, spread across the bright green grass. They shivered slightly, moving just enough to reveal a small amount of golden skin, confirming what the wings were attached to.

An angel.

Throughout his life Dean had seen thousands of angels, but never this close. And especially not an angel with black wings. His village was constantly battling the winged monsters. He had watched his father and the other hunters of the village like Bobby and Rufus fight and kill the angels that constantly tried to kill any man, woman or child that got in their way.

Dean was expected to begin training soon. Then he would join the battle as well. Then his brother Sam. Then his children and their children and so on in a never ending cycle.

But now Dean had a chance to prove himself a true warrior. He had wounded an angel, he could see the blood dripping from the end of the angel's left wing. All he had to do was kill it, and take the body back to his father. Finally, his father would be proud of him.

And an angel with black wings no less. Rumored to be the offspring of lighting and death itself. Almost invisible when flying at night and could turn entire buildings to ash with one touch.

A movement from the figure crouching by the lake had Dean gasping and ducking back behind the rock. When he chanced another glance, he saw the angel had moved, but was still turned away from him.

The angel was now crouched on his feet, his naked, lithe form tensed like a lion about to pounce on his prey.

No that wasn't right. It wasn't like a lion. More like a bird. Dean gasped again when he realized what was happening.

The angel leapt into the air, flapping his enormous wings a few times before falling back to the ground. He could hear the angel's grunt of pain.

Dean released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. This was it. The time was now.

Dean readjusted the grip on his knife, and began to slowly creep closer and closer to where the angel was now curled on the ground.

He knew when the angel sensed him, seeing muscles tense under smooth skin. He watched as the angel turned to face him, his brightly glowing eyes almost blinding Dean with their intensity.

The blond gripped the knife hard enough to hurt his knuckles, raising it above his head, ready to strike. Neither of them were breathing, hearts pounding out of both their chests. And Dean couldn't break away from the angel's stare.

Slowly, he lowered the knife and backed a few steps away from the angel. Dean breathed out a sigh, and turned to head back to his village. He truly was a failure. Even if his dad never said it out loud, Dean had seen the looks, almost glares, directed at him. He was doomed from the start.

Hands reached from nowhere, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around to slam him into the boulder behind him. He looked into the angel's face, eyes shining even brighter with malice. He could feel the hot pants of breath hitting his face. Terror laced through Dean, stealing his breath and making him sick.

Maybe it was better this way. Now John wouldn't have to know just how horribly Dean had failed. He would just be another tally on the death toll.

But just as Dean accepted his fate, he saw something in the angel's eyes. Hesitation.

Before Dean could puzzle his way through the strange occurrence, he gasped as the angel suddenly flared his wings and let out a terrible screech. Dean covered his ears and groaned in pain, eyes closing of their own accord.

When the screams finally dimmed, Dean looked back up to see the angel attempting, and failing miserably, to fly away.

"Wait!" Dean shouted.

What the hell was he doing? He should be running, getting his ass the Hel out of that valley.

"Wait!" He shouted again.

He gasped when the angel turned back to him, wings still flared but arched back defensively.

Achingly slowly, Dean inched forward, presenting the palm of his hand to the angel, like one might do to a dog. Seriously what the hell am I doing?

The angel yelped and backed up at first, but Dean did his best to whisper soothing nonsense to the angel.

Finally, they were close enough, Dean would only need to stretch less than a foot to touch the angel. He lowered his hand, carefully keeping his palms showing, hoping to keep the angel from feeling danger.

"What's your name?" Dean whispered to the angel.

The brunette figure eyed Dean wearily. For a moment, Dean thought angel would try flying away again, but to his great surprise, the angel relaxed slightly and his eyes changed.

Wait, what?

What were once brightly glowing orbs of blue light were now the biggest and deepest sapphire blue eyes Dean had ever seen.

"Castiel."

Dean jumped hearing the gravelly voice coming from the angel's mouth.

"What?"

"My name is Castiel."

Dean's breath caught in his throat. He wasn't expecting an answer from the angel. He didn't even know angels could talk, let alone that they had names. It wasn't supposed to be an actual question, just gibberish flowing from his mouth.

"M…my name's Dean," Dean managed to stutter.

"Hello, Dean," the angel responded, his pink, chapped lips curling up into a small smile.

Despite his body screaming at him, Dean finally gained enough brain power to turn and run away, like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.


	2. A Day In the Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the great support for just the first chapter! I'm lovin' it! Let me know how i'm doing with this chapter, plot is actually semi apparent here.

"Dean! Get your scrawny ass over here and help me with this sword!" Bobby called across the shop.

Dean sighed, abandoning his sketchbook where he was attempting to design a new weapon: a two-sided sword joined by a handle in the middle with double the killing power of the broadswords most hunters used. He stood and crossed the room.

He worked as an apprentice to Robert Singer, the village blacksmith. He loved Bobby, a friend of his father's, who had taught Dean everything he needed to know about melting and shaping metal to create weapons and shields to help the village hunters fight and kill the angels that attacked them. Except not all angels attack. Dean found that out…

Dean shook his head and attempted to focus on the sword he balanced for Bobby while the man carefully inscribed the handle and lower blade with runes to increase power, stamina, and durability of both the weapon and the hunter wielding it. Additional runes and special prayers had to be said over weapons for them to be effective against the angels.

The angels used shorter, sharper blades to attack, or if they chose, angels could blast hunters with enough energy to fry them extra crispy.

The thought of angelic energy made Dean think of Castiel's eyes. First they had been like any other angel's, glowing blindingly with pure energy. But then the light went away and left behind deep pools of…

Okay, that's gotta stop. That's enough flowery daydreaming for one day.

Finally, Bobby finished with the etchings and took it to the water to let it finish cooling and harden. Dean took this as an okay to return to his desk and sketchbook.

As Dean stared down at the half-finished sketch, his mind started to wander. What did happen to Castiel? Was he able to make it back to… wherever the angels go when they weren't attacking? It didn't seem likely that he was still down in the forest. But maybe he had left something. If Dean could find something of the angel's, even just a fallen feather, he may be able to use it to their advantage. Maybe he could design a new weapon that could kill them easier. Too many of his friends and neighbors had already died fighting angels, any little thing could help.

He wished he could tell Bobby what he did. The net that he had fashioned had ensnared the angel, invisible to the naked eye except for the destruction left in its path. He had tracked the angel a few miles into the forest west of the village and found Castiel. It was an impossible occurrence, yet it had actually happened. But no one would believe him. And even if they did, Dean still failed. He didn't kill the angel. He was too weak, and let it go.

But maybe Dean could still fix it. If he could find anything that could help them fight. Dean decided he would go back out to the woods the next day and look.

Later that night, after Bobby had told him to go home, Dean sat at the table downstairs, eating with his brother. Sammy was yammering on about all the things he learned at the archives, where the elders kept all written books, tomes, codex, and other boring junk ever recorded, mostly about angels and how to fight them.

Dean pretended to listen, though thrilled that his brother had had a better day than his own. He stirred his stew slowly, allowing it to cool slightly before taking a bite. He had made it himself, for him and Sammy, knowing that their father would not be home for another few minutes. Not that Dean blamed him. It's a lot of work to be chief of a village.

Not that it ever got Dean or Sammy special treatment. John did what a chief should do, he lead the hunters on attacks against the angels, planned on how better to attack the angels, and ensured everyone else was ready to fight as well. It kept him away from home for long hours.

Dean didn't mind. He had been taking care of his brother almost his entire life, ever since their mom, Mary, had died. It wasn't too difficult, and it helped bring the boys closer than any of the other siblings in the village. For the most part, brothers and sisters competed with each other in their angel-hunting-related exploits to gain the pride and love of their parents. Though they both sought John's attention and love, they refused to get it if it involved hurting the other.

Dean was pretty happy, and usually loved to hear Sammy talk about his day. Unfortunately, Dean was not interested in studying in the archives. What he was interested in, and what had him still distracted, was studying one particular angel up close and personal.

Sammy had just started talking about one of the elders helping teach him the basics of a language of a far distant village (still their closest neighbors, but a few weeks' journey away, so few had been there) when the boys heard the front door open.

Around the corner came John, looking completely exhausted. As he should be. After the raid the village experienced last night, the hunters were busy cleaning the wreckage the entire day.

"Hey, boys," the man grunted in greeting before helping himself to the remnants of their dinner.

"Hey, Dad," Sammy returned the greeting.

Dean watched as his brother ate the last bite of his stew and excuse himself from the table, heading up to his room, most likely to start reading yet another boring scroll or codex or something dorky.

"So did the hunters get everything cleaned up?" Dean asked hesitantly after his father had eaten most of his stew.

"Nearly. The bakery is still pretty wrecked, but that can wait until tomorrow."

Dean nodded and began to clear the table, taking the dirty, wooden bowls to the water trough and scrubbing them clean.

"Dean," John said to get his son's full attention.

Dean turned to his father expectantly, slightly surprised at his father addressing him. Most of the time John stayed quiet the entire night unless prompted to talk.

"I signed you up for angel training, Dean."

Dean almost dropped the bowl he was washing.

"I know it's a little early," John started, pointing out the six months before Dean's eighteenth birthday, "but the attack last night has made me realize how unprepared we are."

Dean nodded, not sure where his father's words were headed.

"The hunters have been debating moving the training age to 16 for quite some time now, and I believe the first step to this change will be admitting you and a few others your age early. It's only a baby step, but we need every fighter we can get."

Dean deflated slightly, realizing that it wasn't his father's belief that he was special and ready to fight, but a last resort that had prompted his decision. Dean nodded all the same, respectfully acknowledging his father's decision.

John hesitated a few more moments like he wanted to say something more to Dean, but must have changed his mind as he stood from the table and retreated into the other room.

Dean finished cleaning up, reflecting on the conversation. He had no real desire to start angel-training, but it was an opportunity to make his father and the village proud. If he could successfully complete training earlier than all the other hunters had in their time, it would prove him both capable and admirable.

Excitement filled him after his epiphany. Maybe he wasn't a failure after all.


	3. An Offer

The forest surrounding the valley consisted of dense underbrush, tall, grey pine trees, and various woodland creatures crawling and fluttering through the trees.

Dean, unfortunately, was nowhere near as graceful as these other animals when walking through the forest. He seemed to trip over every fallen branch, stub his toes on every stone, and even walked into a few trees when trying to sidestep something on the ground.

He finally made it to the valley, taking a moment to gaze at the lush green grass, silvery gray rock, and crystal clear pool of water at the center. It was a teeny tiny paradise right in the middle of the barren, bracken of Viking country.

He carefully began the descent into the valley. He made it about halfway down, but froze when he heard a sound from below. The sound of wings.

On instinct, he leaped to hide behind a natural outcrop of rock, his eyes frantically searching the area below.

Finally, his eyes alighted upon the figure of an angel, bent over the tiny lake.

Of course Dean could not help but notice the angel was still naked, his tanned skin rippling over hard muscle as he moved over the water. At first Dean could not tell what the angel was doing, but then caught a glimpse of a brightly colored object jumping out of the water, through the angel's hands, and back to safety.

Dean could not hold back the chuckle when he realized, the angel was trying to fish. And failing miserably by the looks of it.

Almost without realizing what he was doing, Dean pulled his sketchbook out of his leather satchel hung across his shoulder, and opened it to a fresh page. Slowly, taking in every muscle of the angel's lean body, Dean began to sketch.

The calves were taught, one foot placed behind the other to balance the angel in his precarious position. Dean drew the smooth yet hard muscle bulging in the angel's thighs, similar to the figures of many of the hunter's best runners. Dean bet that this angel could outrun any of them even without aid from its wings.

Dean's artist's eye traveled up to the angel's back, strong and bold lines representing the power in the muscles found there. But something was wrong.

Dean edged slightly closer, peering down at the angel and squinting his eyes. He gasped when he realized what exactly was wrong.

The angel's back was covered with blood. There were lines of water letting it drip farther down the angel's body, almost to his buttocks, like the angel had attempted to wash it off but didn't quite succeed. He tracked the line of blood up to the angel's left wing.

Dean felt a wave of nausea crash over him when he saw the angel's wing. It was obviously broken, near the base of the top part (was it called the wrist? Or just the joint?), bent at a sickening angle. The feathers around it were caked in blood and dirt. Dean couldn't see any bone through the break, but wasn't even sure if angel's had bones in their wings.

The angel had to be in pain, and was obviously starving. He must be stuck in the valley, unable to fly with his broken wing.

And it was Dean's fault. He had trapped the angel in his net, the wing probably breaking when he fell to the Earth from where he soared hundreds of feet in the sky. Dean knew angels were strong, but not invulnerable. Guilt flooded through him, making his nausea increase to where he thought he might actually be sick. Yeah, he was destined to kill angels for a living, even sooner than expected, but this was different. This was completely inhumane. Dean was completely disgusted with himself.

It only took a split second for Dean to make his decision. He spun around quickly, and marched back through the forest, heading back to the village.

…

It took Dean less than an hour to jog to the village and collect everything he needed. It was a slower jog back, weighed down with three heavy bags and already tired from the first trip. But eventually he made it back to the valley.

Panic overtook Dean for a second when he couldn't find the angel crouching by the lake. He searched frantically for the pair of ginormous black wings. The blond released a relieved sigh when he finally located the angel, sitting with his back against a large boulder, his wing carefully bent around him to avoid putting any weight on it.

Dean winced when he saw the state of the angel's wing again, but stoically moved forward, down into the valley. The closer he got to the angel, the more nervous he got. He hadn't been to training yet, but he had heard enough from his father and the hunters that a cornered, defensive angel was the most dangerous.

When Dean was just a few dozen feet away, Dean froze, unsure how to proceed. If he scared the angel, one or both of them could get hurt, or worse, the angel could try to kill him.

Steeling himself for the worst, Dean took a deep breath and whispered, "Castiel?"

The angel's head whipped up, his body tensing immediately, trying and failing to hide his look of pain when his wing started to move into a defensive position.

"Dean?" He barely heard the angel, voice timid and anxious.

"Yeah, it's me." Dean said stupidly.

The angel nodded, but did not reply or move from his defensive position.

Dean couldn't figure out what to say next, and the shock of actually standing in front of the angel yet again was enough to make him freeze in place, his mind utterly blank. Several times his mouth opened to speak to the angel, but no sound came out. Instead he seemed to be gaping like a fish. He tried taking a deep breath to make his mind freaking start working correctly again before he nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise when the angel spoke.

"If you are going to kill me, I would rather you do it quickly. You'll never make me talk anyways, no matter how much you torture me."

If Dean had just a fraction less control of his body, he would've fallen right on his ass after that comment. Luckily, years of dealing with snarling, grumpy old hunters had developed a defensive snark in Dean that could protect him in any situation as well as get on anyone's nerves. Even an angel's.

"You're talking right now. Guess it wasn't that difficult. Don't feel bad though. You're not the first person to take one look at my beautiful face and reveal all their secrets. No one can resist my charm." Just to put the icing on the cake, Dean flashed the angel his would-be-award-winning-if-Vikings-had-awards-for-anything smirk.

The angel merely glared at Dean and kept his mouth shut.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, I came to help you out."

Still no answer from the angel, but the glare continued, distrust clear in his eyes.

"Yeah, you don't believe me, I don't give a crap. Just eat."

Dean rummaged around in his sack until he pulled out the loaf of hard bread he took from the kitchen and the extremely precious jar of sweet syrup that he had managed to bargain some of Sammy's outgrown clothes for the last time the nomadic tradesmen came through the village. The berries from which it was made did not grow anywhere near the village, so Dean kept it tucked away for special occasions. The last time he got it out from its hiding place was for his father's birthday, and he hadn't come home that night. Dean figured he could use all the help he could get from the angel.

Dean also pulled out two wineskins, one empty to fill with water from the lake should it be needed.

The angel lifted his head to look at the food, but otherwise stayed still. Dean knew the look in his eyes, however. The angel was hungry.

"I mean, if you don't want it, I'll take it back home. The bakery still hasn't been fixed from the raid the other night, so I should probably be saving this. I just thought you might want it."

No reaction.

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. I'm gonna go over to the lake and fill this up," Dean gestured to the empty wineskin still in his hand, "and you can sniff and scratch and do whatever you need to do to see that I didn't poison the bread or anything, and eat it. When I get back, I have some old cloths we can use to help wash some of that crap off your back. How does that sound?"

When Dean still received no reaction, he sighed and stood, moving to the lake.

As he filled the wineskin it took every ounce of Dean's effort not to turn back to see if the angel was finally eating. He took his time, lingering to cast his eyes across the valley, seeing it from the newer, lower perspective, before finally turning back to the wounded angel.

To Dean's relief, half the loaf was gone, and the angel was currently fighting with the lid to the jar of syrup.

"Here, let me help with that."

The angel jumped back to his defensive position, dropping the jar. Dean just rolled his eyes, picked up the jar to unscrew it, and set it back in front of the angel. He took a few steps back and crouched down, attempting to be as nonthreatening as possible.

It took a few agonizingly long moments of the angel furtively glancing back and forth from Dean to the jar before he finally picked it up and scooped some out with his fingers. Dean watched as the angel sniffed it, before tentatively sticking out his tongue to lick it. A pleased sound escaped the angel before sticking the fingers into his mouth and letting out an honest to Odin moan.

It shouldn't have made Dean blush as hard as it did, and it definitely didn't make Dean need to readjust himself. It was an angel for Thor's sake.

"Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself over there," Dean said, forcing himself to turn away from the angel.

To keep his eyes and thoughts out of dangerous territory, Dean moved to pull the old cloths out of his bag. He wasn't sure what the best way to clean them was, but he knew anything would be better than leaving them in the state they were in now. Even if angels didn't get infections, the crusty blood and dirt had to be itchy as hell.

"When you finish, you're gonna help me figure out the best way to get you cleaned up. Then I'm gonna help you fly again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... Good thing Dean just happens to be really good at fixing stuff. Poor Cas. I'll admit, I know nothing about birds or wings. But I did mi best to describe what I'm seeing in mi head. But they never really show or describe Toothless's wound, so wounding an angel proved to be very difficult.
> 
> In other news, thank you for every bit of feedback. I appreciate it so much! I hope you guys are liking the story so far!


	4. Wash It All Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for not knowing what the hell I was talking about, I think this chapter turned out pretty well. Let me know what you guys think!

"When you finish, you're gonna help me figure out the best way to get you cleaned up. Then I'm gonna help you fly again," Dean said, laying out the rags and wineskin filled with water.

He then pulled a brush out of his bag. It was used to clean animals, usually mules, and Dean wasn't sure it would help with the angel's wings, but he brought it just in case.

He was so intent on rummaging through his bag, he almost didn't notice that the angel was staring at him.

"What?" Dean asked.

He felt unnerved with the intensity of the angel's stare. He had almost finished the bread, only having used a small amount of the sweet syrup, perhaps knowing its rarity and value. However, it seemed the angel may have forgotten the chunk of bread in his hand because he was solely focused on Dean, his eyes squinted and his head tilted. Hell, if it weren't so creepy Dean might even think it was cute.

No. Hell no. Not going there.

"Seriously, what? You're starting to freak me out."

"I apologize. I am merely confused. How are you going to help me fly? And more importantly why would you want to?"

Again Dean was left staring at the angel. The words he spoke were more eloquent than even the most studied elder at the village. What the hell?

But it occurred to Dean that the angel had a point. Why did he want to help him? Shouldn't Dean be killing him and cutting off his rare as hell wings to present to his father? The thought, though was the expectation of him, made him sick. And that made him worried. He knew Sammy had expressed that he didn't want to hunt angels, but Dean was quick to make sure the kid didn't spread those thoughts to others, especially their father, or he could get in trouble. But now Dean was face to face with a one-in-a-billion kill, and he couldn't make himself do it.

But Dean couldn't let the angel know that. Even if he couldn't kill it, he sure as hell wasn't about to show it his weaknesses. In fact, he wasn't too sure that the sick feeling would remain long if the angel attacked him and Dean was forced to do something out of self-defense.

He merely shrugged, flashing his smirk to the angel once again.

"Why should you care? Just take it or leave it. I'm helping you or you won't let me and I go home. Simple as that."

The angel seemed to deliberate over that for a moment before nodding. He finished the bread and put the jar of sweet syrup to the side, leaving Dean to deal with the lid that the angel didn't understand.

"So you're gonna let me help?"

The angel nodded again, slightly hesitant at first but a determined look appearing in his eyes. Dean wondered if he should worry about that in case the angel was planning something, but he didn't. It seemed the angel decided Dean was his best shot at getting out of that valley alive.

"Okay, then turn around and let me wash that crap off. I'll try to be careful, but I don't know much about wings so if I hurt you, let me know. This is gonna suck, be we gotta do it," Dean told the angel.

It took a moment of wavering and one dark, untrusting glare for the angel to turn and reveal his wings to the human.

Dean managed to stifle his gasp as he saw the wings up close. He hadn't been paying attention before, but now that they were practically in his face he could see how smooth and glossy the feathers were. They had a slightly blue hue, Sammy would probably say they were raven-colored instead of saying black like a normal person. But no matter what color they were, there was one thing Dean couldn't deny: They were beautiful.

Shaking that embarrassing thought out of his head, Dean focused on the wounds of the angel's wing. It looked even worse up close. The blood seemed to be darker than human blood, and the dirt clumped into it only made it darker. He noticed there were even tiny feathers clumped into the gunk, probably shed and stuck in the mess.

Steeling himself, Dean took the wineskin and poured it where the blood seemed to originate, at the base of the bone. He tried to pour lightly, but couldn't help the slight flinch when he heard the angel hiss in pain.

"Sorry man, hopefully I won't have to do that too much."

The good news was Dean was right. The water had cleared enough so that Dean could see the gaping, ragged wound where he had poured. He compared it to the other wing to figure out just how out of place the bone was.

It was bad. Dean had a strong stomach, but the sight almost made him gag. If it had been an arm or a leg bent that way, he probably would have.

The bone itself, which curved straight out on the unwounded wing, was bent almost perpendicular. The skin had broken, but Dean could not yet see any white to indicate the bone was sticking out. The area around the fracture was torn to hell and covered in blood, most of the feathers gone or barely hanging and messed up every which way.

Forcing himself to push his feelings of guilt and sickness to the back of his mind, Dean reached out with one of the cloths to begin carefully wiping the area around the wound. He did his best to ignore the purposefully muted sounds of pain the angel made, wishing the process was easier on both him and the winged creature in front of him.

When he had cleared most of the gunk away from the area of the fracture, Dean moved to the ripped flesh surrounding it, first pouring water, then carefully wiping away blood and dirt and pulling out loose feathers. After finishing the entire wing, Dean poured the rest of the water over the skin of the angel's back and used his last clean cloth to wipe away the last of the blood.

Dean thanked Odin that the blood had not started to flow again when wiping the wound. That would have made the process a hell of a lot more difficult.

Dean congratulated himself on finishing so quickly and managing to stay gentle the entire time, but then stopped. He could hear the angel panting harshly, like he had been holding his breath throughout the process. Whimpers of pain emitted from the poor creature, and Dean couldn't help the urge to touch him.

When Dean's hand landed on the angel's good wing, both of them tensed. Unfortunately, Dean's hand seemed to be working apart from his brain and began to slowly stroke over the soft primary feathers. After a moment, the angel released a sigh, relaxing, but the little, broken sounds continued.

"Hey, you're all cleaned up now. Next we can wrap it up so it can heal and you'll be good as new in no time."

At first, Dean thought the angel was ignoring his existence again. He was about to turn and find the fresh bindings in his bag but stopped.

"It won't heal, Dean. The damage is irreparable. Even using my power, it will not be enough to heal this injury. I lost too much tissue. The feathers will never regrow and I will never be able to fly again," the angel said softly, almost a whisper.

"Hey, don't say that," Dean asserted. "Just give it some time. And if it doesn't work, we can figure something else out."

The angel just sighed sadly and ruffled his good wing agitatedly.

Dean decided there wasn't much use arguing with the angel, and grabbed the bindings. The angel helped him to carefully maneuver the wing into a more comfortable resting position so that Dean could wind the binding around it. Carefully tying off the end, Dean stood and surveyed his work. Hopefully if the angel kept from moving it, the bone would be able to mend itself properly. He wasn't sure about the other stuff, but he hoped to prove the angel wrong.

"So, uh…" Dean wasn't sure what exactly to say.

He was reluctant to leave the angel. Dean knew that if not that day, then soon the angel would regain enough strength to climb out of the valley, and possibly be able to walk back to… wherever angel lived. The hunters were still unable to find what they referred to as the angels' nest, but they all believed it was out there somewhere. And when Dean left, there was a large possibility that the angel would leave and never return and Dean would never see him again. And Dean wasn't entirely comfortable with that idea.

Dean cleared his throat and thrust the untouched bag to the angel. He jumped slightly, but hesitantly reached out to grab it, raising his eyebrows in question.

"It's more food," Dean answered. "In case you aren't able to leave right away, I don't want you to starve. I'll leave the wineskin too so you don't have to walk over to the lake every time you're thirsty. And I put some fish hooks and string in the pocket in case you wanted to try fishing or something. And I put a little meat in there, so you will have to eat that before it goes bad. Um, I think that's about it but…"

Dean forced himself to stop babbling, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"But?" The angel asked.

Dean huffed, annoyed the angel wouldn't let it alone.

"Just… Is there anything else you need? I… I could come out again tomorrow or something, I don't know."

They both stared at each other for a moment, neither speaking. The angel looked about himself, taking in his surroundings. Finally he turned back to Dean.

"It will be too difficult for me to leave for a few days. Most of my energy will be expelled while healing myself. I would be very appreciative of a blanket. I am resistant to the cold, but am unused to sleeping out in the open and get a chill at night."

Dean almost smacked himself in the face. The angel wasn't even wearing clothes, how could Dean be stupid enough to leave him out in the cold.

"Shit, I didn't even think about that. I'm sorry. I'm an idiot," Dean mumbled.

"I didn't say you were an idiot," the angel did the squinty-eyed, head tilt thing again. "It seems illogical for you to have helped me the way you have, why would not bringing a blanket after bringing food make you idiotic?"

Dean sighed.

"Never mind, I can bring you something tomorrow. Maybe I can bring some other food too."

Dean almost didn't notice the blush across the angel's cheeks. Which would've been a downright shame to miss.

"What?" He asked.

The angel stared at his feet. It was crazy to think he was actually witnessing an embarrassed angel. Who woulda thunk?

"I… I really liked the syrup you brought today. I've never tasted anything like it."

Dean broke out in a huge smile. He couldn't tell, but it might've made the angel blush more.

"Yeah, I noticed you liked it. I can bring it again tomorrow if you want."

"I would like that very much, Dean. Thank you for helping me."

He smiled to the angel-no, to Castiel one last time before bidding him goodnight and climbing back out of the valley.


	5. Reflections and Broken Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of update last week. In mi defense, I went home for Thanksgiving break only to discover mi dad no longer has wifi. So this is what should've been posted last week, and I'll still do mi regular post later tonight.

Dean made his way down to the valley, carrying two blankets and a heavy bag, making his way much slower than his last trips.

His mind was racing, questioning everything he was doing with each careful step. Most importantly he was asking himself why he was helping Castiel. For seventeen and a half years, Dean had been taught to avoid angels at all cost. They were alien and deadly. You kill them or they'll kill you.

But so far, Castiel hadn't tried anything to hurt him. In fact the angel was polite, quiet, and, yeah, respectful. He thanked Dean for helping him, politely requested a blanket, and even assured Dean that he wasn't an idiot. None of that reflected what his father and the other hunters had told him his entire life.

Maybe it was a need to figure out why the angel didn't kill him. Castiel had had the opportunity several times, but never raised his hand to strike him. None of it made sense, and Dean wanted to know why he was still alive.

But Castiel's black-colored wings were proof that Dean never should have left that valley.

There were many different kinds of angels. There were grønnvængri (green-wings), rauõrvængri (red-wings), flekkóttrvængri (spotted-wings). The most common were blárvængri (blue-wings) and brúnnvængri (brown-wings). Dean had seen them all thousands of times. But there was only one other time in his life that he had seen a blakkrvængr, and angel with black wings.

Blakkrvængri were rare, only seen once every decade or so, and as far as the village and stories from far away lands were concerned, no hunter had ever killed one. So the fact that Dean had managed to capture and wound one was life-changing.

So why wasn't Dean reacting. Any other hunter would've killed it on the spot and would be revered for the rest of his life and long after. Killing an angel with black wings would've made Dean almost king or even god-like to the other hunters. He would've been the ultimate hunter. So why didn't Dean do anything to make that happen?

Maybe something in Dean was broken. He couldn't kill an angel. Maybe he never would. His father would disown him and he would be forced to die alone in the woods.

No, he couldn't let that happen. Something was happening here. This wasn't a normal situation. Castiel not killing him proved that. And Dean needed to find out what was really going on.

Finally, Dean broke through the tree line at the edge of the valley, eyes immediately scanning for Castiel just as last time.

This time the angel was lying face down in the grass, a patch lit up by the dim sun, apparently soaking up the warmth.

Dean shouldn't have been surprised when he caught himself staring at Castiel. When he realized what he was doing, his face flushed and he looked down at his feet shamefully. If it was normal for the angel, Dean didn't want to make it weird or take advantage of that. Just because Dean wasn't used to nudity didn't mean he was allowed to gawk. If staring at the hard lines of muscle in the angel's back and the round swell of his buttocks was gawking.

The blond started climbing down to Castiel, carefully avoiding looking at him once he arrived until the angel had sat up and covered himself, like he wasn't even doing it on purpose it was just comfortable, with his hands.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief and sat down facing him.

"Here's some blankets. I figured the ground couldn't be too comfy, so I brought one to lie on and one to wrap up with. If you need more just let me know."

"Thank you, Dean. That is very kind of you," Castiel replied.

Dean just nodded, unsure of what to say.

The two were silent for a few minutes before Dean remembered what else he had brought the angel.

"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. Here's some more food."

Castiel's head perked up at the mention of food which made Dean smirk.

The human pushed the bag to the angel, allowing his to look through it himself. He watched as Castiel ruffled through the food, pulling out more bread, a lump of cheese, and a cloth tied around a handful of berries. Dean wondered if there would be enough food left at home for him after his brother and his father had eaten, but pushed that thought away. He'd skipped meals before. He would just heave to keep himself busy and hopefully avoid any questions Sammy might come up with.

His thoughts were interrupted by Castiel making a high pitched sound, almost like a squeal. He looked over to see Castiel clutching the jar of sweet syrup to his chest.

Realizing what was happening, Dean's face broke out into a smile. Castiel noticed Dean was staring and smiled back to the blond. Watching the angel's lip stretch made Dean's breath mysteriously disappear.

They stayed silent while Castiel ate some of the food, even daring to put some of the syrup on the berries, probably making them tooth-achingly sweet.

"Baldur's balls, Cas. You're gonna be a walking cavity after this," Dean joked, biting his cheek to keep his smile from getting embarrassingly huge and breaking his face in life.

"What?"

"You know, that's gotta be sickeningly sweet. It's gonna rot your teeth."

"No," the angel's brows were knitted together, his head tilting, "you called me Cas."

Dean took a moment and replayed his previous words in his head.

"Yeah, I did, sorry. I guess it's just easier to say. I'll try not to do it again if you don't want me to."

Cas smiled, "no, it's fine, Dean. I've just never been called anything but Castiel or…"

Hearing the angel trail off worried Dean, which was odd. But the elegance with which Cas normally spoke, his uncertainty made Dean uncomfortable.

"Or what?" he asked hesitantly, not wanting to make it worse.

The angel just shook his head and turned back to his berries.

"Thank you for the food Dean. It is nice to be able to taste such exotic foods, and I have much more energy than I expected with such an injury."

Dean allowed the angel to change the subject, sensing that he should leave the name topic alone, but still having trouble squashing the intense curiosity.

"No problem, man."

Dean went to relax, before tensing when he realized what Cas had said.

"Wait, you call this shit exotic?"

Cas tilted his head, staring at Dean hard enough to make the blond squirm. It was unnerving to see such big, blue eyes just staring.

"This is very different from what I am used to eating. So many flavors are present in these foods that I have never tasted. It is quite enjoyable."

Almost to prove his own words, Cas took a bite of the syrupy berries. The moan that came from the angel was different than any Dean had heard so far. In fact, the only time Dean could remember hearing a moan like that was when he accidentally caught Pamela and an older hunter behind an irreparable old building doing things Dean could only dream about doing.

Dean shifted uncomfortably again, deciding not to dwell on any of those thoughts.

"Well what the hell do you eat, then?" Dean asked incredulously.

Cas swallowed his mouthful of berries, his gaze on Dean never shifting.

"We eat manna and drink water. It is all that we need to have enough energy for the day. It keeps us strong and healthy."

"And what in All-Father's name is that?"

"What?" Another head tilt.

"Manna?"

"Oh. It is similar to your bread, but is unleavened and has much less flavor."

"Dude, that sounds disgusting. And that's all you eat? All day every day? You never eat meat or fruit?"

The angel shook his head.

They were silent for a few minutes as Cas finished his berries. It seemed the angel was finished, Dean wouldn't be surprised if the angel had a stomachache after all that sugar. The remaining food was carefully put back into the bag. Cas turned to put the bag into a small crack in a boulder, revealing wings that had previously been hidden. And that's when Dean noticed.

"Shit, Cas! Your wing!"

The blond stared in shock, watching the wing, no longer bound by cloth, as it stretched slightly so that Dean could still see it after Cas turned back to face him.

It was healed. Sort of. It was still bent slightly out of shape, and only a few feathers clung to it. The blood was entirely gone, barely a scab. But it didn't look right. The flesh hadn't healed right, almost like there wasn't enough left to heal. In fact, most of the wing seemed to be just… gone.

In a way it was worse than before.

"How did it heal so fast?"

"I expected it to take a day or two longer than this, but I expect that the food you have given me and the cleansing and binding you administered helped to speed the process."

"So you can heal yourself?" Dean looked at the angel in wonder.

"If I focus my energy to heal it. Healing tires me, but it seemed prudent."

"But it didn't heal all the way," he hesitantly said, phrasing it almost like a question.

"No."

For the first time since he started eating, Cas looked away from him, tucking his wing away in a sense that almost resembled self-consciousness.

"That's okay, Cas. I mean, I've seen a lot worse on some of the hunters who still manage pretty well. It's really not that bad-"

"Dean."

"I'm sure all the other angels will still go gaga for you. Ladies love guys with scars. Trust me, I know from experience-"

"Dean."

"What?"

"Dean, I am not worried about my appearance. It has been a long time since I've cared about that."

"Great, so everything is hunky dory!"

"Dean, I'll never be able to fly again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the words for the different angels are rough translations from old Norse that I cannot vouch for the validity of. I just let the internet do its thing. Hopefully I won't need to include an index for these words. Just let me know if I should.
> 
> Also, the manna bread that Cas describes is what God gave the Jews to eat while they wandered around in the desert. I thought it would be fitting for them to eat something so boring especially as these angels do have to eat and sleep etc.
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed or if I royally screwed something up :)


	6. Hopeful Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to our regular updates, as promised. Though to be fair, this is a filler chapter consisting of Dean's twisty turny inner monologue. But as usual, let me know if you liked it!

"Dean, I'll never be able to fly again."

The words echoed in Dean's mind as he worked. In the dark metal, he couldn't stop seeing the broken, defeated look on Castiel's face when he spoke.

Again he thrust the metal into the flame in the smithy, allowing it to heat until he could shape it.

Imagine, being an angel, an almost all-powerful being with beautiful wings and not being able to fly. After doing so your entire life.

He couldn't let that happen to Cas. He wouldn't let that happen to Cas. He ignored the absence of the sun, marking how late it was. Instead, he focused on his new project, intently shaping the metal into something new. It was going to be a very long night.

…Eight Hours Earlier…

"What do you mean, you'll never fly again. That's impossible."

Dean's mouth was suddenly very dry. He tried to swallow to ease the discomfort, but only made it worse feeling his dry throat attempt to contract properly.

"My wing is too damaged to be used. It will not support my weight," Cas flapped his wing uselessly.

"That's crazy. Just give it a few more days. You'll be good as new."

Finally, Cas looked up from where he had been staring at his hands, but Dean wished he didn't. He never wanted to see that glare on the angel's face ever again. It did not belong there.

"My wing is completely healed. There is nothing more I can do. This is it. This is how it will always be. How I will always be. Broken."

And Hel if that didn't break Dean's heart right in two. Cas was not broken. He had to make the angel see that.

"You're not broken, Cas-" Dean tried to reassure him.

"Then what do you call it?" Castiel's face was bordering on murderous. Dean noticed his eyes were beginning to glow bright like they were the first time they met. "I am a flightless angel. I am completely useless. Even if I manage to find a way back to the nest, I will never be welcome."

Dean's heart stopped at the mention of the angels' nest. He knew he should ask. It was something hunters had been looking for since angels first appeared. Everywhere they searched, they never found a trace. If he didn't ask, he would truly be a failure.

But up until now, he had put Cas's needs first. Why stop now?

"You're not useless. And the wing is not unfixable."

"Dean, I told you-"

"No, Cas. I know you've done all you can, but I haven't. I'm gonna fix this. I may not agree with everything my father has taught me, but there is one thing I have learned: I clean up my own messes. And Cas, I got you into this mess. So I'm gonna clean it up."

"And how are you planning on doing that?" The angel did not believe him.

"Do you trust me?" Dean asked him.

"I shouldn't. You are a hunter. You should kill me. Or capture me. There is not a single logical reason for me to trust you. You could turn your back or change your mind at any time."

"Yeah. So do you trust me?"

The angel stared at him. The glow had dissipated from his eyes so Dean could stare right back, searching for the angel's answer. Searching for the angel's thoughts.

"Yes."

…Now…

Dean could feel the sweat dripping into his eyes, down his back, into uncomfortable places he'd rather not think about, as he worked in the small shop.

Bobby had left hours ago, leaving Dean to his "crazy, ridiculous idjit" project. Dean didn't mind. It would be much easier not to have to try explaining what he was doing to the older man. He should try to think of a good excuse for it in case anything happened, but Dean was too distracted to think about that.

Again, Dean was thinking about the damn angel.

He replayed every conversation he had had with the angel over and over in his head. Many times, Cas had slipped when talking, mentioning things about angels that Dean knew Cas wouldn't be allowed to tell a human. He probably wasn't even actually allowed to talk to humans.

The only time Dean knew about an angel making a sound was when he was about six years old, Sammy a tiny two year old toddling around the house. His father had been the one to capture it. Obviously he wasn't the chief of the village for nothing.

John had managed to capture a blárvængr. The angel's wings had been cut off, a usual process done by hunters that liked to keep trophies. But instead of killing it, John had strapped it to a table and interrogated it. Tortured it. For almost two whole days. Dean had had to take Sammy to Bobby's house to keep him from hearing the screams.

The angel never spoke a word.

Now he was so close. He could make Cas give him information in exchange for helping him. He could manipulate Cas into telling him. He could capture Cas like his father had done to the other angel and torture him.

But Dean knew none of these things would ever happen. As curious as Dean was for the answers, that was all he was, curious. And he knew the knowledge was dangerous. So he wouldn't ask.

But what if Cas gave the information voluntarily. What if he made another slip, bigger this time, and revealed something huge. What if he eventually trusted Dean with the information?

He tried to picture the angel telling him something so important, so personal, and then revealing it to his father and all the other hunters. No, he couldn't do that either.

But why?

What was it about this one angel? Was Dean an idiot for allowing himself to be draw in so close to Cas? What if the angel was manipulating him, getting him to help him, then killing him once he got what he wanted. But that didn't make sense. The angel didn't even think Dean could help him.

Dean tried not to think about it, turning back to his work.

He was almost finished, having worked seven, no make that eight it's past midnight, hours straight. He knew Sammy would be worried, but doubted his father had even noticed. But he had set out enough food for them both before he left to go see Cas, and made sure Sam had everything he needed, so Dean didn't worry.

Finally, Dean had finished. He removed the mask he wore to protect his eyes and face from the heat and shreds of metal, rubbing a hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat gathered.

On his work table sat a work of beauty. The metal was shaped as a wing, with a special material Dean had developed earlier when making flying weapons that needed to be aerodynamic to be able to be ejected long distances.

He had taken a few measurements of Cas's wing before he left. It wasn't perfect, but he would resize it, fix anything needed, or even remake the entire thing if it was a failure.

One last time, he pulled the metal lever connected to the false wing to make it spread. It wasn't the fanciest, or the prettiest, but it could move in tune with another, real wing, and with a little practice, Cas should be able to fly again.

Dean smiled to himself, alone, dirty, and exhausted in the small room, unable to push away the increasing feeling growing in his chest.


	7. Misunderstandings and Flying Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter makes me feel very happy. I think I did an okay job with it. Hope you guys enjoy!!

Dean was giddy. The entire way through the forest to the valley, spent tripping over everything and nothing, but carefully protecting the package in his arms with everything he could, Dean couldn't stop trying to picture Cas's reaction. Would he be just as excited as Dean? Would he be thankful, maybe even find a nice way to show his gratitude to Dean for being so thoughtful and considerate?

For all the scenarios Dean had imagined, he never expected Cas to react the way he did.

As soon as Dean arrived in the valley, he made a beeline for where he saw Cas sunning his wings next to the lake. Too excited to form words, he thrust the package towards the angel. Startled, Cas accepted the bulky item, staring at it bemusedly.

After a few moments Dean sighed impatiently, "You're supposed to open it, Cas. It's like a gift."

"None of your other gifts were wrapped," the angel pointed out.

"Just open it."

Cas gave Dean another confused head tilt before looking back at the package. He slowly moved the cloth to unwrap it. As soon as the shiny metal and flash of red material was revealed, Cas dropped the bundle. In a blink of an eye, the angel was a few yards away, dropped into a defensive position, snarling. His eyes glowed brightly, his body coiled like an animal preparing to strike. But what surprised Dean the most was the silver blade gripped tightly in the angel's hand.

"Cas?"

The angel growled, gripping the blade that appeared from nowhere even tighter.

Dean held up his hands, hoping Cas would calm down enough to talk. The blond had no idea what was happening, but a dark heaviness coiled in the pit of his stomach.

"Cas, what's going on? What did I do? Just tell me what I did and I'll try to fix it."

He watched as the angel's forehead creased, the brightness dimmed slightly.

"Yeah, I have no idea what just happened. I need you to help me out, man." Dean tried to keep his voice as soft and calm as possible, though he could feel his body shaking.

Though he remained ready to strike, Dean sighed in relief when the angel finally responded.

"I know what this is, Dean. Many of my brothers and sisters have been slaughtered using these weapons. You have brought a weapon to kill me."

What? Um… Oh. Oh crap.

"No! Tyr's tits, Cas! I'm not going to kill you! It's not a weapon. I made this for you. To help you."

Cas dimmed a little more, taking a few steps back towards Dean.

"What is it?" He asked hesitantly.

Dean went to pick the bundle back up, freezing when the angel tensed. After a moment he proceeded more slowly. Carefully unwrapping it, Dean spread the false wing to show Cas the proper shape, mirroring the ones stretching from his back.

"It's a wing. Well, it's a fake wing. I'm sorry I wasn't really thinking about it looking like a weapon. I was just really excited to show you. It will help you fly, Cas!"

The light faded completely, revealing the deep sapphires of the angel's eyes, a look of awe spreading across his face.

Slowly, still defensive and gripping the blade, Cas stepped closer to examine the wing. He hesitantly reached out his free hand to touch it, flinching once before gaining the courage to touch the pieces made of metal. Dean couldn't help but smile encouragingly.

"How does it work?" He asked.

"Do you still trust me? It'd be easier to show you."

Dean wasn't sure if he should have said it. He could have explained it, though it would truly take more time to do so. But with his reaction, Dean knew he should take it easy.

They both waited silently, Dean letting Cas move the wing on its joints to see how it spread and furled.

"Yes, Dean. I trust you. Show me."

Dean ignored the warmth that spread through his body at the words and told Cas to turn around. He didn't mention the blade in the angel's hand. If it made him more comfortable, so be it.

Slowly, gently, Dean fitted the false wing to the damaged one, binding it loosely enough to avoid chafing and tightly enough so it wouldn't fall off. Cas tensed a few times, but never told Dean to stop or remove the contraption, so Dean worked as quickly and softly as he could.

The man carefully guided Cas to move his wing, testing the joints to see that the false wing moved in sync. Dean had oiled it well, so the wings were able to move in tandem.

After checking to make sure everything was secure, Dean moved around Cas to face him, studying the angel's reaction to the wing.

"I admit, I'm not an expert, so if you think this is something you would like to try, it will take a lot of tweaking until we get it right. This is based off of how I remembered angels flying, so it's pretty basic. But maybe it will at least get you off the ground."

Dean noticed one of the binds was loose in the front and adjusted it, hand accidentally touching Cas's neck. He held his breath as he drew back.

"Dean," the angel still seemed so awed, flexing his wing in different ways and feeling the false wing bend with him.

"I tried to keep it light. Most of the metal is hollow or thin enough that it should be okay. Or does it feel too heavy?" Dean wished the angel would speak.

Finally the angel stopped flexing and turned to Dean, mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

"I can barely feel it. It feels like a real wing."

Dean let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Is it… Would it be okay if I tried to fly?"

Dean nodded, the excitement building in him, seeing the same excitement echoing in Castiel's eyes. The same hope.

Cas nodded back, taking a few steps back to give himself room. He took a deep breath before sprinting to the boulder, taking a leap, and kicking off.

Dean watched in amazement as Cas flapped the wings, the air underneath lifting him higher and higher until he was soaring high above Dean's head. Dean let out a laugh and then a loud whoop, excitement overwhelming him.

Then he watched as the angel wobbled, then dropped. His heart dropped into his stomach, breath leaving him like someone had punched him in the gut. Luckily, the angel was able to balance himself, arranging his wings so he slowly glided back down to Earth.

Cas landed about a hundred feet away, but Dean was already running to him. Apologies were already dripping from his tongue, stupidly asking if the angel was okay calling himself an idiot.

But when Cas turned to face the man, his eyes sparkled with happiness, a laugh clinging to his pink lips. The apologies fell away from Dean, an unexpected smile replacing them just from seeing Cas's own smile.

"Cas."

"Dean. Thank you," The angel leaned forward, wrapping a hand around his neck and placing his forehead to Dean's. "Thank you so much."


	8. Questions about the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off I must apologize profusely for my unexplained yet totally unintentional prolonged hiatus. At first I was taking a break for finals. Then I was extending my break for the first few weeks back home for Christmas. Then I came back to school and was overwhelmed with starting back up. Basically, I'm a lazy person who makes up excuses and I desperately hope you all can forgive me. However, due to the fact that I have finally finished essays for next years scholarships (that I desperately need to receive) I can hopefully start writing again. Luckily, this is the perfect chapter to return with. Herein lies plot development/filler crap/ yay Sammy makes an appearance!

The renewed giddiness that coursed through Dean's entire body lasted long after he had gotten home. Sammy had spared him a bewildered look at his strange demeanor, but elected to ignore his brother in favor of reading yet another book loaned to him by the elders.

Dean ignored him in turn, and busied himself in preparing dinner for his family. He smiled into the thick stew, humming a tune and even dancing a bit before he caught himself and forced his hips to still. It would be way too embarrassing if Sammy caught him dancing.

His mind was stuck on repeat, playing over and over the image of Cas's smile, his happiness. Dean could still feel the angel's warm palm on his neck, his slightly sweaty forehead pressed against his own. Dean had been overcome by a dizziness, and had found himself unable to look away from the angel's lips.

"Cas, what are you doing?" Dean remembered how unwilling the words had come, not wanting to ruin such a perfect moment. He could've stayed there forever.

His smile stretched impossibly wider at the memory of Cas's groan at the broken silence. He had then told Dean that it was a symbol of thanks shared by angels to show their gratitude. Dean wondered if it was the angelic version of a hug.

Maybe he should teach him how to hug. Cas had shown him a bit of his culture, Dean should return the favor. He wanted to return his own gratitude that the angel had shown Dean a part of himself and the happiness he had given to him.

When Dean managed to force himself to stop thinking of all the things he could teach the angel, he turned to Sammy and asked him what he was reading.

Sammy smiled and turned the pages so Dean could glance at the runes inscribed by a steady hand. Dean knew how to read, sure. Most parents taught their kids how, if only so that they could find information about hunting on short notice. John never had time though. Instead, Bobby had taught Dean and Sam to read, though Sammy took to it much easier, and sometimes still had to help his older brother, even when Dean refused to ask for help.

Dean recognized enough to know the book was, unsurprisingly, about angels. It was a collection of descriptions on every known type of angel. Dean knew it offered descriptions on the angels' appearance, preferred fighting styles, even special powers each had.

It was pretty common reading. Dean knew reading it would be part of his training, and it never hurt to have a head start.

Unfortunately, that thought made Dean's mind come to a screeching halt. Training. Dean had been so distracted with Cas, he had completely forgotten about it. Learning how to hunt and kill angels. About which Dean was already questioning his ability. And he started in just a few days.

Pushing down the nausea, Dean forced a fake smile to Sammy and tried to finish dinner. If only things were that easy.

"It's not really fair is it?" Sammy broke the thick silence.

"What?" Dean didn't mean to snap at the kid, but he couldn't help it.

Sam ignored his brother's rude response and continued.

"We really don't know anything about them. We have our ways to classify them, but we all know it's not always accurate. We don't know where or how they live, if they have families that mourn when they die because we killed them. It's not really fair to hunt these beings that we know next to nothing about."

As the words sunk in, Dean immediately rejected them. He couldn't be thinking like this if he was ever going to survive training.

"They kill us, Sam. They started it. We're just defending ourselves." He retorted, angrily chopping random vegetables to add to the stew due to Sam's many previous insistences to eat healthier.

"Hmph. Dad trained you well. A nice, generic answer. Oddly enough, that's what every other hunter says about it. But, Dean, have you ever read the origin legends? About the first angels, the first battle, why we fight them?"

Yeah, because Dean totally had time to read origin legends for fun next to working at the shop and taking care of Sam. In fact, Dean was too busy to do that crap just so that Sammy could.

"No, Sammy, can't say I have."

"There are about a dozen different versions, more if you include legends from other villages. No one is really sure what happened. And if we can't be sure what happened, we can't be sure that we should be fighting them. We don't know that they started it, yet that is apparently the popular opinion around here. So what else do we "know" that isn't true?"

Frustrated with the conversation, Dean threw down the knife he had been chopping vegetables with, watching Sam flinch at the loud bang and resulting clatter of metal on the wooden floor.

"Just stop it, Sammy. Thinking like that, all you're gonna do is get yourself in trouble. Or worse, get Dad in trouble. People are gonna start wondering what the hell he's teaching us."

"He hasn't taught us a damn thing and you know it, Dean!" Sam shouted angrily, startling Dean.

He merely scoffed and picked the knife up off the floor, tossing it not so gently into the wash basin.

"Just leave it," he said simply.

"I can't," Sam answered sadly, "and you shouldn't either. You start training soon. I can't bear to think of you hunting angels. It just seems wrong."

Dean finally turned and looked Sammy in the eyes. He was about to demand Sam to stop it, but stopped short seeing his brother's face drop and turn pale. He wondered why before realizing his cheeks were wet. I'm crying. Why am I crying?

He wiped his cheeks hastily, turning away again.

"Please, Sammy. I can't talk about this."

"Okay, Dean."

For a moment, Dean thought he would say something else, but instead heard Sam pick up his book and retreat to his room, leaving Dean gripping the edge of the table and trying to get a grip on the emotions flooding through him.

This isn't fair. If it wasn't for Cas I wouldn't be having these thoughts. I just wish… What did he wish? That he never met the angel? Picturing blue eyes and glossy black wings immediately laid that thought to rest. He could never wish that. Maybe he just wished that things were different in some way. That this pressure coming from all sides would just go away.

Dean mourned the good mood that had died from the conversation. If Sam was right, if the angels didn't deserve to die, that meant Dean's entire life was a lie. Then his father and all the other hunters were pretty much attempting genocide. How could Dean ever live with himself knowing that?

But he couldn't dismiss the notion his little brother had planted in his mind. The interactions with Cas already went against everything he had ever learned. He could never kill Cas, he was too kind. Too good. Too beautiful.

What if the other angels were the same? Just protecting themselves? Just wanting the cold-blooded killing to end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just wanted to add that my plan of attack is to see what day makes the best 'writing day' for me, and that shall be the next day that I update, and will henceforth be my weekly update day for the rest f the semester. I know Wednesday and Thursday are out, but I promise I will update soon! Let me know what you guys think of this lovely chapter!


	9. Flying is a Dangerous Sport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys. I honestly have no excuse. It's just been a crazy semester. And because I assume it will be a crazy summer as well, I won't make any deadline promises. I'll just promise to update as often as I can. I really want to finish this before June, but I've proven by now how terrible I am at keeping writing goals. Anyway, let me know if you enjoy the new chapter!

Oomph!

The noise Dean made as he fell onto the hard Earth with a heavy angel on top of him making all the air leave his body was slightly embarrassing. Even more embarrassing was the resulting panic when Dean couldn't get any air back into his lungs. In his momentary panic, he flung Cas off his body, limbs flailing everywhere. He felt warm fingers touch his forehead, and the panic was gone along with the inability to breathe.

Taking a deep, amazing breath, Dean turned to face Cas.

"Thanks."

Whether he meant it sarcastically or not was uncertain.

The angel staring at him in deep thought had believed it to be a good idea to try flying while holding Dean. Not only was it very uncomfortable for Dean to be held by naked man bridal style, Dean was also utterly terrified of heights, forcing him to bury his head in the angel's neck. Why then, did he even agree to be swept off his feet a hundred feet into the sky? Because he couldn't say no to the damn angel's puppy dog eyes.

The angel had been getting better at flying on his own with the prosthetic wing, but had wanted to try something heavier. Cas claimed that most angels could carry over twice their own weight over short distances, and he wanted to see how far he could go.

Apparently not very far.

Cas had at least lowered his altitude enough so as to not break any of Dean's bones. That was very nice of him.

"You're welcome, Dean," the angel said, signature squinty eyes and head tilt present.

Dean just rolled his eyes and painfully pulled himself back to his feet. Though he had to admit with the height they fell, it should've hurt much worse. Dean assumed Cas had been able to heal that as well.

"So you can heal others as well? Not just yourself?"

They were both still, letting the question float between them. Usually Dean was good about not asking questions, but the curiosity sometimes became too much to bear. So far, the questions have always been met with silence or a brusque dismissal.

"Yes. Angels, humans, other animals. I have the ability to heal minor wounds. The more severe, the more energy required of me to heal it."

"Like your wing. It was pretty severe so you used a bunch of your energy fixing it."

"Yes, that is a good example of my healing power."

Dean smiled, happy at understanding the new concept.

"Is there any more you would like to know, Dean?"

Well that certainly caught his attention. Cas freely offering information to him? He looked at the angel standing in front of him, refusing to look Dean in the eye.

No, that's not what was happening. The angel was pissed.

"I'm sorry, Cas. Honestly, I'm trying not to pry. But I am curious. I can't help it, man. It's not everyday an angel talks to me. Well I guess it is now, but that's kinda beside the point. It's just, we don't really know anything about angels. It's hard not to wonder."

He winced when his babbling reminded him of his conversation with Sammy the other day.

"But seriously, you don't have to answer anything you're not comfortable with. I definitely don't want to get you in trouble or anything. And it's not like I really need to know. It's not my business."

"But it is your business, Dean," Castiel decided to point out.

Shit.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is. I mean, I'm not actually a hunter yet, but I start training tomorrow and… shit, Cas. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here."

Yeah, panic in front of the angel you won't admit you have a crush on. That's a wonderful idea, Dean. Good job.

Dean lowered himself to sit back down on the soft grass, resting his back against a nicely placed rock.

He watched as the angel gracefully lowered himself in front of Dean, reminding the man for the third or fourth time that day that the angel was completely bare. Do angels just walk around in their birthday suits all day long?

"You're supposed to kill me and take my body back to your village. You're supposed to train until you can kill angels without batting an eye. You're supposed to hate me. Obviously you aren't doing what you should do. Now, you have to ask yourself what you want to do."

Well that didn't seem quite right. An angel telling him to do whatever he wants? What did Dean want?

Dean sighed.

"I want my brother to be happy. I want my dad to be home more. I want to avoid angel training or hunting and especially killing as much as possible. But I really want…" Dean forced himself to trail off, not wanting to subject Cas to that.

"What, Dean? You can tell me, but only if you want to."

"Well, I want to know more about you, Cas. I want to talk to you. Get to know you. Be your friend," Dean admitted.

They were both silent for a long moment after this confession.

"What do you want to know?" Cas offered.

Dean was floored. It was almost like Cas was offering himself up on a golden platter. Probably should stop thinking about that too much.

But Dean decided not to look a gift angel in the mouth.

"Okay, so I can't help but notice that you're naked… Are you… Do you guys usually walk around naked?"

Smooth.

The angel cleared his throat.

"No, actually we don't. We usually wear, um, I guess you could call them loincloths. But angels are much more comfortable with nudity than I assume humans must be."

Dean noticed they were both blushing more than entirely necessary.

"So you never wear any clothes?"

"Well, we have special tunics we wear when we pray. They cover us from torso to thigh. It is a way for us to show respect to the Lord."

"The Lord? Is that you're guys' leader or something?"

He noticed Cas tense and assumed they were wandering into dangerous territory.

"The Lord is the Almighty God, the Savior. He is the higher being that created us and protects us."

Oh, that made sense to Dean, even though it probably shouldn't have.

"So you guys only worship one god? Not a bajillion like we do? Like if we only prayed to Odin or something?"

"Essentially, but he is much more than your petty idols. He is everything."

Now Dean wasn't a particularly religious man, but he felt himself bristle at Castiel's words.

"Hey, I'm not judging you on your one, lonely god. You could be nice and respect my gods as well. At least I'm trying to learn a little bit about your guy."

"It is different, Dean. My 'guy' as you say is omnipotent while yours do not exist."

"And how the hell do you know that?"

Castiel did not answer, but his brow was furrowed again in deep thought.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

The silence stretched an achingly long time before Dean started to get antsy.

"Look, man. I'm sorry. I had no idea that would turn into a religious debate. Maybe I shouldn't ask any more questions. In fact, maybe I should leave."

"No, Dean. I apologize. You are not an angel. It is wrong of me try to push my beliefs upon you. Please do not leave because I made you uncomfortable."

Dean looked at Cas from his awkward, half-sitting position from where he had started to rise. He noticed the almost pleading look in the angel's eyes for Dean to stay. Dean refused to admit that a warm, glowing feeling erupted in his chest at that thought.

"Yeah, okay. I'll stay a little longer. But I really should head back early. I'm gonna fix dinner and go to bed so I can get up at friggin' Thor's ass crack o' clock in the morning tomorrow for training."

At the mention of Dean's training, the tenseness returned to the two of them. He wished he hadn't mentioned anything.

Instead of mentioning it, Cas took another route.

"Will you not eat the dinner that you fix, Dean?"

Which added a new layer of awkward considering Dean's dinner was currently in Cas's stomach, and there was no way he was admitting to the guy that he was sacrificing food for him.

"Uh, I'm not very hungry tonight. I guess I'm just nervous."

"You should still try to eat something. You will need your strength tomorrow."

And there it was again. Oh well. Time to do one last stupid thing before he left for the night.

"So do you have any tips for facing these guys?"


	10. You're Dumb but At Least You're Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lookie, another update! If the cliff hanger last chapter confused anybody, don't worry I explain now. As usual, let me know what you think and enjoy!

"So, do you have any tips?" Dean asked.

Dean watched as the color drained from the angel's face and an utterly horrified affect erase the previous smile.

"What?" He asked, wondering how he managed to fuck up everything.

"You want me to give you… tips on how to…kill… my brethren?

Oh. I am the BIGGEST friggin' idiot in the world.

"Shit, Cas. Of course that's not what I meant. No. Fuck. I was actually asking the opposite, man."

Dean was hoping if the angel could give him any ideas on the behavior of angels, he could avoid killing them in training.

"Oh. I thought you meant…"

"Hell, no. I would never."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot, Dean. It was just miscommunication. Completely understandable."

Despite his words, Dean noticed Cas was still very pale, and turning a little green. But Dean still appreciated that the angel steadfastly refused to allow Dean to call himself an idiot. That was pretty sweet of him.

No. Just stop. Can't think like that.

"I just meant… I'm gonna be learning how to hunt. But I figured if I knew a little more about angels, I wouldn't have to hurt them. Like if there is a magic spell to put them asleep or… I don't know. I just don't want to do this, man."

Cas nodded, deep in thought.

"I cannot think of anything like what you described, Dean. How exactly will your training be enacted?"

Dean thought back to when he and Sammy would watch the older kids training on their way home from Bobby's.

"We have a few captive angels that we bring out for training purposes. Like blárvængri and stuff. Actually, I know we have a rauõrvængr, because it almost took my father's eye out when he captured it."

"It?" Cas asked, eyes turning flat and shiny at Dean's words.

"Oh, uh… I guess it's a chick. They don't really teach us angel pronouns. But she is definitely female. Pretty hot too."

Maybe I should just never speak again. Then I wouldn't say shit like that.

Dean instinctively knew this was the wrong thing to say, as Cas's eyes went from shiny to glowy and scary. Dean scrambled for anything to say to calm the angel.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what to say! I'm not exactly used to talking about angels to other angels."

"You don't even know her name."

"She wouldn't tell us if we asked! You are the only angel I've ever heard speak. Otherwise they never talk."

This seemed to make Cas pause. The angel calmed a little, fixing Dean with a less evil glare.

"What color are her wings?"

"Red. That's what rauõrvængr means. 'Red wings'."

Cas nodded in understanding.

"You classify them by wing color. I assume this creates many difficulties in cataloging them."

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"We do not classify by wing color. You're assumptions are incorrect." Cas lowered his wings that had flared in anger. Dean relaxed.

"So how do you?" Dean asked.

But Cas refused to answer. Dean belatedly realized that it was much farther in depth than any other question he had asked and immediately withdrew.

"Oh, sorry. Um… so yeah, she was red wings, like a bright crimson color. Her hair is red too, but less bright. She's tall and thin, very pale," Dean hoped that if he described the angel well enough, Cas would relax.

Again, he was wrong. Yeah, I really should just stop trying.

Cas visibly tensed again, a heartbreaking sadness crossing his features.

"Anna," the angel whispered.

It took Dean a moment to realize this must be the captured angel's name.

"Anaiel. I thought she was dead. We all thought she was dead. But we never found her body or her grace," Cas whispered, almost too low for Dean to hear.

"I'm sorry, man. Was she your…" Dean didn't know if angels did the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing, and wasn't sure he wanted to know anyway.

"My sister," Cas finished.

"Yeah, but aren't you all brothers and sisters? You said they were all your 'brethren'." Dean pointed out.

"Yes, that is true. But she is different. We were raised by the same parents, in the same nest. We were very close." Cas had turned away from Dean, but not before Dean saw a tear trace its way down the angel's cheek.

"Shit, man. I'm really sorry I brought it up. I don't know what I would do if I lost Sammy. I don't think I could live without the kid."

"It is okay, Dean. I am happy to know that she is alive. Thank you."

Dean tried to picture Sam kept in one of the cold cages in the arena where captured angels were kept. Fed bread and water once a day. He tried to picture being happy about that.

Dean shuddered.

"We gotta fix this," Dean muttered miserably.

"And how do you propose to do that?" Cas quipped. Can angels quip?

"I don't know. But this is wrong. I mean, your sister is locked up. But I didn't even know angels had families. We know absolutely nothing about you guys!"

"They aren't family units like you have here, Dean. My parents did not give birth to me. They simply taught me and cared for me."

"You're missing the point, Cas."

"No, I see your point. But you are talking about changing the way things have been for longer than I've been in existence. And I am very old compared to you."

Dean forced down his curiosity about the angel's age and reminded himself to ask later.

"I could talk to the hunters. Tell them what you've told me. Tell them-"

"Tell them that you have captured an angel and failed to kill it or bring it back to the village? Do you really think that will go over well?" Cas blatantly pointed out.

"Probably not. But after I tell them everything-"

"They will immediately hunt me down and kill me themselves. And that would make you sad."

Dean opened his mouth to deny the accusations then closed it. Who was he kidding? He would be devastated if the hunters found Cas and killed him.

"Yeah, okay. But there has to be something we can do. Honestly, if they all knew what was really going on…"

They would stop right? John would tell them all to stop hunting, and the fighting would stop. Right?

Cas gave him a sad smile almost like the angel followed his exact line of thought.

"Maybe someday, Dean. Maybe we will find a way in the future. Thank you for the kind thoughts."

The angel surprised the blond by grabbing his wrist and yanking him forwards. Cas moved them so their foreheads were touching. He was thanking Dean for wishing he could help.

Dean wanted to push away. He didn't deserve the angel's gratitude. He couldn't help Cas or Anna, or anyone. He failed his father, he failed his village, he failed Cas. He should lock himself in one of the angel cages.

Instead, Dean melted into the angel's touch, letting his hand rest in Cas's where it had landed. Their knees touching, Cas's bare toes brushing against Dean's thick leather boots. As much as he tried, Dean couldn't make himself pull away. So he stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently when I posted this I completely forgot to include the definitions for the different types of angels. Basically I just looked up Old Norse and classified them according to the color of the angels' wings. So Anna, having red wings, is a rauõrvængr. vængr means wings and rauõr means red. "Redwings". Aren't I clever? Dean also mentions blárvængri, which are blue wings, and in my mind one of the more common types of angels. Like Cas said, the Hunters' classification system doesn't really work correctly, but it's the best they can do with the little knowledge they have.


	11. Meet the Class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to keep the characters as close as possible to their HHTYD parallels. Lisa is Astrid, but obviously doesn't get with Dean b/c this is a Dean/Cas fic. Victor is supposed to be Snoutlout, the big, tough guy. Jo and Ash are obviously Ruffnut and Tuffnut, brother and sister. And Garth is Fishlegs, and I am still cracking up over the comparison. Also, ferskrvængr means "fresh wings", and the Hunters classify all angels with light pink or orange wings as such. Let me know what you guys think, if I missed anything in my explanations! Reviews are coffee and cookies ;)

Dean fidgeted nervously as he listened to Bobby ramble on and on about training safety. He had heard the speech a million times before, but never had it put him so on edge.

In just a few minutes he and five other teenagers just below the age of eighteen would step into the arena and face their first angel. Dean thought he might get sick.

"No killing the angel! I know it seems dumb, but we need them to train and you idjits aren't ready to capture your own to replace the ones we got."

Thank Odin.

"We will start with a ferskrvængr. Who can tell me what type of angel that is?" Bobby asked the small group.

A tiny kid on the far right of the group shot his hand up immediately. Bobby rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

"Anyone besides Garth?"

The rest shrugged and side eyed each other.

Bobby sighed, "Fine."

The kid-Garth apparently- pumped his fist in the air.

"Yes! Ferskrvængr means 'fresh wings', referring to the light pink or light orange color of their wings. Like flowers! They don't have as much power but aren't very common either. They are the best at defensive tactics."

Dean wondered if the kid had memorized the description of every angel in the book.

"Pretty much. Now why don't you guys wait here a minute, I'll go grab it."

Dean repressed a shudder at the word 'it'. Damn, Cas was really getting to him.

"So, you're the chief's son. Don't look like much to me."

Dean turned to face the voice, hackles rising despite being used to hearing things like this. He was confronted with a tall kid with dark skin and a deep smirk on his face.

"Yeah, I'm Dean. Who're you?" Dean mocked politeness.

"I'm Victor. And I'm gonna take all of you down. My old man's been teaching me since I was little."

"You really think you're the only one who's trained before? Good luck. It'll be wonderful seeing the look on your face when you get beat by a girl," Dean heard someone next to him say.

When he turned he realized it was a very pretty girl. He'd seen her a few times, most likely flirted with her a few times as well.

"Come on, Lisa. If you're nice to me, I'll let you kiss me, and maybe even hold my trophy," Victor said pompously.

"There is no trophy, dumbass," Dean informed him.

"And there's no way in Hel I'm kissing you."

Victor shrugged, pompously turning toward the other girl in their group.

"Jo?"

The blond smirked at the boy next to her, most likely her brother, and then glared back at Victor.

"You can bend over and kiss your own ass if you're that damn desperate."

Dean chuckled. He liked Jo.

"And what's your name?" Dean asked Jo's brother.

The guy smoothed a hand through his very odd hair-chopped short on the top but long past his shoulders in the back- and held a hand out to him.

"Name's Ash, but you can call me Doctor Bad-Ass."

Dean laughed, remembering him from sleeping on tables in the town bar.

"Oh, you're Ellen's daughter aren't you?" He asked the blond, finally recognizing her as the barwoman's pride and joy.

"Guilty. And Ash here is my annoying and smelly adopted brother," she flashed a toothy and somewhat flirty grin to Dean.

Dean smiled back, trying not to flirt back or worry about suffering the wrath of Ellen. Something about that woman completely terrified him.

"Alright, kiddos! Whenever you're ready!"

Bobby's call echoed across the field, making them all go quiet.

"Here goes nothing," Garth whispered and stepped forward.

Victor shrugged and followed. Finally, the entire group stepped into the arena, gathering in a tight group in front of the aged hunter.

They all stared at the creature only a few hundred feet away from them.

The angel was rather small, almost childlike. It's-his, Dean mentally corrected himself- wings were a pale tangerine color, also quiet small and barely large enough to wrap around his body, like a child trying to protect itself by cocooning inside a blanket.

Whether by Cas's influence or by his own, skewed thought processes, Dean pitied the angel. Whether it was in fact a child or not, he resembled a poor, lost puppy, especially when looking into his wide, terrified blue eyes.

When the angel's feathers twitched, the others took a step back while Dean took a step forward, unafraid of the poor guy after almost peeing his pants multiple times in his interactions with Cas. Dean almost missed Lisa's impressed look at his supposed bravery.

"Great, Dean. I'm glad one of you pussy-willows have guts. It's just a little angel, nothin' to be scared of."

Taking Bobby's teasing as an insult, Victor stepped forward, past Dean, puffing out his chest.

"I ain't afraid," he said.

The angel's feathers ruffled in response, obviously, at least to Dean, scared. This of course caused Victor to jump and step back behind Dean.

While Bobby teased and chastised the group further, Dean studied the angel. Short brown hair, light blue eyes, freckles across his cheeks, looking for all the world like another human if not for the brightly colored wings sprouting from his back.

"What's his name?" Dean said, his mind still working absent mindedly.

He realized everyone was staring at him, like he had sprouted a second head. He mentally berated himself for asking such a stupid question. Angels didn't talk.

"Well obviously I don't know if he even has a name, but I like to call 'im Alfie."

Dean nodded, trying to remember to be very nice to Bobby later.

"So today is about learning how an angel reacts to certain movements. This one in particular won't try to attack unless it sees no other option. Its wings are smaller than most, so they lack the power to use them in attacks. When it was captured, it had been holding a knife, but it disappeared as they usually do, but this lets us know that they use weapons like other angels. So far, a ferskrvængr has not been known to use special powers to attack, but we still don't know for sure that they cannot. As Garth pointed out before, they are better at defense."

After a little more lecturing, Bobby had them watch as he demonstrated how the angel moved. Wings flared when Bobby stepped close enough to attack, sometimes stretching in front in an attempt to shield his face and body. The angel was more prone to flight than fight as compared to other angels Dean had seen in the past, though it was possible it was caused by captivity. Often the angel did try to fly away, forgetting that his wings had been clipped right after capture.

When it was Dean's turn to try approaching the angel, he didn't cower, but tried to be as soothing and nonthreatening as possible, like when he first approached Cas. But when he realized he had gotten closer than even Bobby had without the angel freaking out, he knew he looked suspicious. Hoping it wasn't too late, Dean moved abruptly, causing the angel to flinch and try flying away yet again.

It felt terrible, startling the angel on purpose. But the crease forming on Bobby's forehead seemed to smooth a little so Dean relaxed and watched the others try.

Dean wished this wasn't happening. He wished he was in the valley with Cas, or at home with Sammy. Anywhere but here. He knew that later he would have to tell his angel, describe the nicknamed 'Alfie' to Cas, and feel tons more guilt crushing down on him. Dean wasn't ready, he already felt terrible. But the first step to changing things was learning as much about the situation as possible. Sammy had taught him that.

Of course Dean should tell his brother. The one person in the entire village who felt the same way about fighting with angels. Sammy was smart, smart enough to help. But Dean was nervous, and still wanted to keep everything secret.

Dean continued to fight with his thoughts throughout the rest of the lesson and until he got home. He decided to keep his mouth shut for now. At least he wouldn't be expected to kill an angel anytime soon. That had to be enough for now.


	12. Drunk Angels Are Excellent Problem Solvers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am both in love with and mortified by this chapter. Honestly it's mostly filler, but I try mi hand at being funny. Let me know what you guys think. Enjoy!

"Samandriel. It fits him almost perfectly. It had to be him."

Despair crossed Cas's face at the thought of yet another of his brothers locked in captivity.

"We didn't hurt him. We only learned how he reacted to us." Dean wished that made it any easier for the angel to bear.

Castiel merely nodded, and continued to stare mournfully at his feet.

Dean sighed and slumped against the boulder at his back. He just wished there was a way to make things different. He hated to be the one making Cas so sad. It tore at his insides, made him feel sick to his stomach.

"I can't change anything without your help, Cas." He whispered glumly to the angel.

When he received no response, Dean muttered a curse and leaned forward to rummage through his bag.

When he finally found what he was looking for, he sighed almost in relief and sat back again. He saw Cas watching as Dean took a long pull from the wineskin, filled to the brim with his father's best wine. He would've nicked some mead, but his father always caught him. But luckily for Dean, his dad never drank wine. He took another long pull.

"What is that, Dean?" He heard the angel ask curiously.

Dean chuckled and held the container out to the angel.

Cas took it, examining the wineskin carefully, attempting to peer inside through the hole, before shrugging and placing it to his lips. He took a long, deep draught before spitting it onto the ground, some splashing onto Dean.

"Hey, watch it!" He shouted, immediately collapsing into a fit of totally manly giggles.

"Dean," the angel looked at him, lips puckered like he had eaten a sour grape, which… well… "Dean, that was not pleasant. Why would you drink rotten fruit?"

"It's fermented, Cas," Dean corrected, wondering if there was really a big difference, "And I drink it to get drunk and forget my problems."

The angel looked completely appalled at the idea.

Dean just shrugged at Cas's look of horror.

"And what do you do to forget?"

"I do not forget," the angel explained, "I reflect upon my experiences and use them to learn for the future."

"And how does that work out for ya?"

Cas didn't answer, but stared bleakly into the wineskin before taking another, more cautious, drink.

Dean nodded and drank another gulp as it was handed back to him.

"Dean, I'm just so sad. I can't bear to see my brethren dying. Even if they don't like me, I still don't want them to die. And I know it's making you sad. And that makes everything worse. Cuz… cuz you should be happy. You deserrrve to be happpyy, Deannn."

"Are you… Cas, are you drunk?" Dean asked, bewildered.

The angel just giggled, and shook out his wings like a wet dog shaking off water. Which was mesmerizing enough it took Dean a moment to find his voice again.

"Dude, You only had a sip. How could you possibly be shit-faced already?"

"You… You're… Shizzy… Yeah, whatever."

Dean was shocked that the angel could barely talk. What would've happened if Cas hadn't spit out that first huge gulp?

"Look, man. I didn't know this would happen. I'm really sorry. Why don't you lie back on your blankets. Tell me if you feel like you're gonna hurl."

Cas nodded and smiled at the blond blearily. He crawled over to the little nest he had made for himself under an outcropping of rock in the cliff, and collapsed on the pile.

Dean just chuckled and followed him, covering the angel with the top blanket.

"How're you feeling, Cas?" he asked.

He couldn't contain his guffaw of disbelief when he realized the angel was snoring.

"For Odin's sake. I've heard of lightweights, but this is ridiculous!"

Dean shook his head, staring at the angel's sleeping face. He notice Cas looked much younger this way, lines forming on his forehead and crinkling his eyes smoothing out and disappearing. Dean smiled.

Before he realized what he was doing, Dean leaned forward and placed his lips to the angel's forehead, like he used to do to say goodnight to Sammy when he was little. He watched as Cas's lips stretched into a soft smile.

He looked back at the wineskin abandoned on the ground behind him, then back to an angel. He wondered if Cas was just intolerant of alcohol or if it would knock out any angel.

A plan began to form in Dean's mind.

The next week seemed to pass in a blur. The mornings were spent training with his group, learning how angels ticked and what to do in a fight against one. After training, Dean ran down to the valley with a bag of food for his angel, and learned how angels really ticked and how to avoid fighting one. After reluctantly parting from the blue-eyed angel, Dean returned home with enough time to fix dinner for Sammy and his father before running over to the smithy and catching up with his work for Bobby.

Dean was completely exhausted. It wasn't that he noticed himself. He was used to being tired, especially during his occasional long strings of nightmare filled nights that prevented him from getting any sleep. Instead, almost everyone took their turns pointing out the dark rings under his eyes and his lack of focus until Dean was sick of it.

He tried to focus on the tips Bobby gave when facing angels. He tried to memorize all the pointers on angel behavior he learned from Cas. He tried to listen to the lectures John gave him about working himself to death. He was just too tired.

It wasn't until he fell asleep while working on a new shield and almost burning both himself and the majority of the shop that Dean realized it was a problem.

"That's it, boy. Get your scrawny ass the Hel out of mi shop or I swear by Freya's bountiful bosom I will kick you out myself!" Bobby yanked him up by the collar with one hand while finishing putting out a small fire kindled by loose sheets of paper across the floor with his coat.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I swear I didn't mean to. I just…"

"You just need to get some sleep is just, ya idjit." The man interrupted gruffly.

It took a moment, but when Dean realized the older man wasn't angry, he was worried, he nodded and left the shop. He ignored his father when he got home and went straight to bed.

It felt like barely a second later Sammy was shaking him awake, telling him he was going to be late for training if he didn't get his ass out of bed and watch your language young man, alright, alright I'm up, shut your trap.

He dragged ass to training, but already felt better than previous mornings. Though admittedly, he still wasn't paying attention to whatever the hell Bobby was yammering about. Cas's advice was usually more than enough to get him through lessons.

It wasn't until they watched Bobby lead out a new angel that Dean fully woke up.

The angel had flaming red hair, crimson wings, and a deathly glare on her face. Dean lost the ability to breathe when it fully sunk in that this was Castiel's sister.

He listened in disbelief when Bobby announced that Anna was the first angel they were going to actually fight against.


	13. Fight Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so here's another chapter. I think this is where we are getting to the meat of this story, but I have a feeling I bit off more than I can chew and won't be able to include all the little details I want. But anywhoo, let me know what you think and enjoy!

Dean stared at Bobby in disbelief.

He didn't actually expect them to attack and defend themselves against this angel, especially not a rauõrvængr. Even Dean knew how powerful they could be.

He looked around at the group around them, his own confusion mirrored on their faces.

"Now stop fretting. I may be an old bastard, but I wouldn't put you in a situation I didn't think you could handle. You're gonna be in pairs, and this here angel has a special restraint in case anything gets out of hand."

Bobby took a few steps closer to gesture towards a piece of leather etched with special runes and chain encircling the angel's neck.

A collar, Dean realized with a sick feeling.

He had helped Bobby make those collars. They had special enchantments to keep the angels basically powerless.

"So, pair up."

Ash and Jo stuck together immediately. Dean turned to eye Lisa, but realized Victor had already swung an arm around her shoulders. Lisa shrugged it off and glared, but did not step away. He sighed and turned to face Garth, who looked like he had just hit the jackpot.

"Alright, grab a sword and a shield so we can get this party started," Bobby commanded.

Dean recognized every sword, knowing he had helped make each one. He smiled as he watched Lisa grab one of his favorites, a short silver handle with a sturdy grip and a closer attack range. He selected a sword for himself, nothing too fancy since he didn't plan on using it, and a thick shield to protect himself.

Anna wouldn't act like Samandriel did. She would protect herself by any means necessary. That would at least sort of comfort Dean as he mimicked trying to cut out her throat. He had no desire to hurt her whatsoever.

They lined up again, far enough away to give the others some room.

"Just practice trying to attack. The angel will probably evade every time, so don't let it get you down. It has plenty more experience than you. It would kill you if it had the chance."

Bobby said it with enough finality to confuse Dean momentarily. While he knew what Bobby said was true, it wasn't for the reason the others thought. Anna wouldn't kill them because she was a mindless, bloodthirsty monster. She would only defend herself.

Despite knowing all this, Dean still had to fight a chuckle when he saw Garth trembling next to him. Even better was seeing Victor gripping his shield like a child gripping a blanket.

"Who wants to go first?" Bobby asked.

No one breathed.

Dean cleared his throat.

"We got this. Right, Garth?"

He watched the skinny kid visibly gulp and nod shakily, "R… right."

He managed to flash a half smile before stepping up, gripping his shield steadily, but keeping the grip on his sword loose. He wasn't even sure if he could use it even if he wanted to. The idea of swinging it at the angel made him sick.

"Whenever y'all 're ready," Bobby called out.

Dean looked to the boy next to him and realized he would have to go first. Garth could barely lift his sword, let alone swing it. Dean felt kind of bad for him.

He began with a half-hearted swipe near Anna's torso, which the angel easily sidestepped. Dean took a deep breath and tried again, a sharp jab a little higher this time. This was also evaded with barely a blink.

If she didn't look so pissed, Dean would think she was bored. Dean smiled at the thought, which made the angel give him a strange look. She probably wasn't used to humans smiling at her.

Dean stepped to her other side to let Garth have a turn. The kid tried to mimic Dean's first swipe, but fell short enough that Anna didn't even have to move.

Her resulting smirk made Dean smile. Damn, he would probably actually like her if she wasn't a prisoner. Less than a prisoner, really.

And if that thought didn't make Dean almost drop his sword.

It was a terrible situation, and Dean suddenly felt powerless. He was just one kid. He couldn't stop it. He couldn't fix it. One day, he and Cas would be caught, the angel killed and Dean worse. His father and Sammy…

Sam. He couldn't leave his brother. Not for anything.

Laughter echoed around Dean when Garth overswung the large sword and fell on his face. Dean forced a smile, helped Garth to his feet, and stepped back so the next pair could try.

He glanced at Anna, but their eyes caught and they stared at each other. The redhead studied him carefully, a puzzled expression crossing her face before she turned her attention to Victor and Lisa preparing to attack her.

...

"Can I ask you a question, Cas?"

The two were spread across the grass, Dean watching the angel munch on the food he brought to him.

"I am fairly certain you just did, Dean," the angel said.

Dean sighed, readying himself for the pain of having to explain that that was just what people said, before seeing the twinkle in the deep blue eyes.

The angel was teasing him.

And worse, the realization made him blush.

"You're a dick," Dean managed to mutter, blush only deepening at the angel's smile.

"Yes, Dean. You may ask me anything you would like."

With his power to function his brain properly sorely depleted by the surprising, yet admittedly pleasant turn of events, it took Dean more than a moment to remember his earlier question.

"Why are you still here?"

Well, he really didn't mean that to sound quite so rude.

"What do you mean, Dean?" the angel asked.

"Well, it's just… you can fly again. You don't have to stay here, sleeping on the ground. It's only gonna get colder, and that can't be good for you. I mean, don't you miss your family or… nest or whatever?"

Castiel looked troubled, letting Dean's question sink press down heavily upon them.

"No, Dean. I do not miss my family. And I highly doubt that they miss me."

"What?"

After the admittedly little that they had talked about Cas and his family, Dean had assumed the angel couldn't wait to go back home. Every day he came to the valley expecting it to be the day Cas told him he was leaving.

"I can never go back to the nest, Dean. If I did, they would reject me or worse. I could not bear to go through that. This is the best alternative."

"Why? Why would they reject you, Cas? You've done nothing wrong."

"I have been tainted by humanity. If they were to accept me, I would be forced through rigorous and exhaustive testing to prove I was still loyal. But under the circumstances, it is very unlikely they would even let me get that far. I am essentially in exile."

Prove that he was loyal? To the angels? Dean's head began to ache.

"Cas…"

"It is okay, Dean. As I said, this is the best alternative. I do not mind it here. And of course your visits are always enjoyable. It keeps me from getting too lonely. It helps that I am already very familiar with solitude."

"You are?" Dean prompted, enthralled by the angel's words. Cas rarely spoke this much.

At this, the Cas's face darkened and he withdrew.

"That is something I would rather not discuss."

Dean nodded, accepting and not wanting to push the angel.

"There is something I would like to discuss, though. If you do not mind."

"Of course, Cas. Anything."

"I want to speak to my sister. I want to speak to Anna."


	14. It's All Enochian to me

Dean was sweating more than Aesir in Muspelheim.

He crept through the cold tunnel built into the wall surrounding the arena that led to the cages where captured angels were kept. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. If he was caught, Odin knows what would happen to him.

After Cas had told him he wanted to talk to Anna, Dean assumed he had heard the angel wrong and stared at the angel as he attempted to process the words correctly. At his blank look, Cas just repeated them.

"You want to…"

"Talk to my sister."

"Are you crazy? Did you sneak more wine?"

"No, Dean, the side effects from last time are not something I wish to repeat in the near future. I would not talk to her directly, of course. But if I could get a message to her, and maybe her a message back, it would be effective communication."

After Dean had slowly and reluctantly realized that the angel was very serious, he asked Cas what he needed to do.

Now, just a few hours later, Dean was creeping like a thief into the dark tunnel, his candle barely breaking through the gloom.

When he reached the cages, he felt lost. There were dozens, lined on either side spaced about thirty feet apart. At least most of them were empty.

Dean recognized the small angel from the first day of training, the one that Cas thought was named Samandriel, in the cage closest to him. Dean thought about talking to him, asking if he needed anything, but thought better of it. What would Bobby think if he came in the next day and saw the angel with a blanket or a hunk of bread? No, he needed to find Anna and get out.

He looked into each cage, searching for a flash of bright red hair or wings.

Finally, in one of the cages furthest from the tunnel entrance, he found her.

She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, picking contemplatively at the straw by her feet. The soft, white dress she wore was dirty, but she didn't seem to mind. It was probably the least of her worries.

Dean stepped closer, trying not to flinch when she whipped her head towards him at the sound of his footsteps.

He stayed a few feet away from the bars on the cage, but crouched down so they were level to each other. He wasn't sure how she would react to this.

"Hey," he offered weakly.

The angel merely stared back at him.

"So, I have a message for you. From a guy you know. Our mutual friend you could say." Dean smiled half-heartedly at the weak joke.

"He also said you might freak out a bit. So… ya know… please don't."

Still silence.

"Anna-"

At this, the angel flew to her feet, literally enough that Dean worried that her wings weren't actually clipped, and she began to angrily shout at him in a language he didn't recognize.

Dean jumped back, hoping to avoid the arms reaching through the bars trying to clutch at him and probably severely injury him.

Great, good to know we aren't staying quiet and keeping the other angels out of this. Wonderful.

"Please, calm down! Don't you wanna hear the message? It's from your brother!"

The angel stilled suddenly and drew back, her wings still spread in anger.

"Yeah. Cas is alive, and I talk to him every day. He wanted me to tell you something."

He waited, hoping this would calm the angel enough to let him give her the message and get the Hel out of there.

When she began to speak, he moved closer to hear her better, voice cracking slightly from lack of use and most likely dehydration as well.

"So you have tainted my brother as well. Is there no end to your hatred? Is there nothing you won't bloody and destroy? You humans kill everything you touch without thought or question. Leave my brother alone, or I swear I will rip out your throat."

And even though Dean's brain was screaming at him to run, to hide, to protect himself, he knew he couldn't. He promised Cas.

"He wanted me to tell you that he was okay and this one word. I had to practice a lot, and Cas says I'm still saying it wrong but you should still be able to tell. So umm… he says 'Malprig'. He said you would know what it meant."

He watched as the angel's face fell, confusion washing away all traces of anger.

"So I'm guessing you know what he meant. And Cas said you might want to say something back, though you'll have to make sure I can say it right first if it's in that freaky language of yours."

It took a moment, but Anna finally looked at him, seemingly awakened from whatever world of thought she had been lost to.

She nodded.

"Yes. I think that would be okay. If he trusts you, then… tell him I said 'Dosig'"

"Doh-es-ee-geh? Is that right?"

The redhead gave him a surprisingly warm smile.

"No, but he will understand. Thank you for delivering my brother's message."

…

If he trusts you…

Anna's words floated back to him as he walked through the forest. Cas trusted him.

Dean wasn't shocked that Anna would be able to interpret so much from Cas with just one word. He knew how communication with a close sibling worked. He and Sammy could have entire conversations without speaking if they needed to.

What shocked him was that all Anna needed to trust him was Cas's word. And that Cas gave that word.

Maybe he shouldn't be so surprised. After everything they had been through, after Dean brought him food and blankets, after Dean helped him fly again, maybe it wasn't so remarkable for the angel to give his trust.

He reached the valley late enough to find Cas asleep on a blanket spread by the lake. Dean briefly considered letting the angel sleep and giving Anna's answer later, but dismissed it. He knew how important the message could be.

"Cas? Hey, man. It's wakey wakey time."

He watched, fascinated as the angel's eyes fluttered open.

Cas yawned widely, stretching his lean body, then his great wings, before ruffling and settling back down. Cas smiled at the blond fondly.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey," he greeted, helping the sleepy angel to his feet.

"You're early," Cas pointed out as he shuffled over to the side of the lake to wash his face.

"Kinda thought you wouldn't wanna wait to hear what happened."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Dean. That is very considerate."

Dean just nodded, unsure how to respond.

"So what did happen?" Cas prompted him.

"Oh, right! Well, it took me forever to find her. And when I did, she nearly tore my head off."

Cas chuckled.

"So, when I told her I had a message from you, she got really angry, like you said, but when I gave her the message she calmed down."

"Did she tell you anything?"

"She said that you…" Dean trailed off.

He thought better of reporting to the angel of his discovery. He wasn't sure why, but it felt better just knowing that the angel trusted him, and didn't want it to go away by saying the wrong thing.

"Well, you know how bad I am at pronouncing this crap. So here goes. She said to tell you: Dosig."

He watched as a triumphant smile broke out over the angel's face.

"I knew I could trust you, Dean."

And suddenly Dean couldn't breathe.

"So I assume Anna did not tell you what the words meant?"

Dean shook his head, still not recovered enough to speak normally.

"It's enochian. The language of the angels. My message to her, malprig, roughly translates to 'fire', like her hair and wings. And dosig means 'night' sometimes even 'dark one', which obviously reflects my wings."

The wings in question moved to fold themselves behind Cas's back, like he was trying to hide them.

"When Anna first started going to battle with the other warriors, we would whisper these words to each other every time she returned safely. So now I know that Anna is alive and well."

Dean was awed by the obvious love Cas felt for his sister, like his own love for Sammy. Even they had millions of code words they worked out to communicate when they were kids and didn't want the grownups to know what they were saying. Though Dean suspected that Bobby knew most of them just by paying enough attention.

Dean was surprised out how happy he felt that he was the one to supply this communication, this reassurance, between the siblings. How grateful Dean would be in a reversed situation.

"Thank you, Dean. You have no idea what this means to me. How grateful I am that you are in my life."

When the angel leaned in, Dean assumed they would touch foreheads. He was used to that. He closed his eyes and leaned forward to accept the thank you.

But when instead he felt something warm and soft against his lips, Dean's mind and heart froze.

Cas was kissing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another chapter! So to clarify for anyone who was like me and too lazy to Google random words in here: Aesir is a word used for the Norse gods, Muspelheim is the realm of fire in Norse myth, and Enochian doesn't make any sense to me so I probably messed up somewhere but I can't find the website I had used for the translations anymore to double check. Otherwise, I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think! :)


	15. Something Worth Fighting For

While Dean's brain attempted to form any kind of thought or function whatsoever, he felt Cas pull back and stare at him, probably waiting for him to open his eyes.

But he couldn't.

Cas just kissed him.

"Dean?"

He could hear the concern in the angel's voice, but still was frozen from the shock. Which rivalled the intense heat spreading from where he could still feel the ghost of Cas's lips.

"Was that wrong? I apologize. I thought you would appreciate the touch, but please forgive me if I offended you in any way."

Of course Dean appreciated the Hel out of the kiss, which was finally starting to register in his foggy brain.

"Yeah, no, yes… shit, of course you didn't offend me, Cas." Dean managed to choke out.

Dean looked into the angel's wide blue eyes.

"Then what is wrong, Dean?" he asked innocently.

The blond sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew his brain would process the situation faster if he turned away. The angel was so distracting. Especially with those lips still so close, after discovering how they feel pressed against his own. But he couldn't quite bring himself to turn away.

Cas looked at him expectantly, worry creeping into his features.

"Um. I… sorry. I guess you just really shocked me. I'm not sure what kissing means to angels, but for humans it's… well…" Dean wasn't quite sure how to finish.

"It is a sign of affection between two people right? Angels do not kiss this way, we rarely show affection. However, I was hoping it would be an appropriate way to show my happiness, my thankfulness, that you are here."

Dean swallowed thickly and wondered if he should explain it to him or not.

"Well, I mean, kisses can mean different things. It's just usually to show affection to friends, especially other dudes, it's usually just on the cheek. It… um… only people who are together really kiss on the lips."

"Together?"

"Yeah, like, married couples. Or courting couples. Or if they aren't interested in marriage and just…"

Jeez, having a sex talk with an angel was not something Dean ever thought he would be doing with his life.

Luckily Cas seemed to get the idea.

"Oh. I did not realize. I am not entirely sure why I did it. I just felt the urge to do it. I am sorry that it was wrong."

"No, Cas. It wasn't wrong. Just different I guess. I wasn't expecting it. But I mean I don't mind. Actually, I kinda…"

No. Definitely not letting that one slip past. No way.

"Dean…"

He watched as the angel drew his plump bottom lip into his mouth to chew on it and discovered new meanings of the word torture.

"Yeah, Cas?"

The angel seemed so unsure of himself, ruffling his feathers and looking anywhere but at Dean.

"Dean, I… I think I want to do it again."

The weight of the words hit him like a blow from Mjolnir and dropped to restlessly flit around the pit of his stomach.

"What?"

"Is it bad? It seems weird to desire someone's touch this strongly. Is it wrong?"

Dean wasn't sure how to respond.

The people he spent the most time with were not overly affectionate creatures. Sure, Sammy used to hug him all the time when he was a kid and every so often Bobby would clap him on the shoulder to congratulate him on a well done piece. Dean rarely saw people kiss.

On top of that, the knowledge that Cas was a freaking angel made it way more complicated. How was he supposed to wrap his head around the fact that an angel wanted to kiss him? Or that he wanted so badly to kiss him back?

"I… Cas… I honestly don't know. I wish I did. I've never felt this before."

The angel's eyes grew impossibly wider.

"You are feeling the desire as well? Is it as overwhelming to you as it is for me?"

Overwhelming. Understatement.

"Yeah… Yeah I think so. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the moment I first saw you. But I'm a human. And you're an angel. We aren't even the same species. How could that be right? It's not natural."

Cas folded his wings across his chest, creating a physical barrier between the two. His eyes were sad. Dean suddenly felt terrible. Sometime Cas was an intimidating, terrifying warrior, but now he was a naïve, innocent angel.

"It feels natural to me. I am not under any spell or enchantment. I am not hallucinating. I feel what I feel. How can what I feel be wrong?"

Dean sighed in frustration, wishing the conversation would be over. Or that it never happened. Why couldn't they go back to a few minutes ago?

"How can I explain…? Look, Cas, back home where you live, you said you had people taking care of you. Was it two guys?"

"No. It was a male and a female. They raised me and taught me."

"Exactly. And why is that?"

Cas's brows creased.

"I am unsure."

"And are there any angels raised by two dudes? Or two chicks for that matter?"

"Not to my knowledge."

Dean raked a hand through his hair. Wishing this wasn't so difficult to explain.

"It just isn't done. Add that with the fact that we aren't even the same damn species and we are totally screwed. It doesn't matter what we feel."

"But what does this change, Dean? We are friends. We share affection for each other. Why should we not express that affection?"

"They would kill us, and you know it."

Dean's words settled on them darkly. He felt like the temperature had dropped, and goosebumps broke out across his arms. He felt more than saw Cas take a step away from him, immediately missing the angel's warmth. Even Cas's eyes looked cold as ice.

"They would already kill me. Your people because I am an angel, mine because I am in exile, no longer part of that world. I belong nowhere, Dean. And if you truly felt what I feel, then it would not matter. You are one of the few people in my life who has shown me kindness, who has made me feel like I have worth. You have helped me in ways I can never repay. But more than all that, I can feel something deeper, something I've never felt before, not even with Anna. I would give my life for you, Dean, just to be with you. Would you do the same for me?"

With one last cold, harsh glare, the angel leapt into the air and flew over the ridge of the valley and out of sight.

Dean collapsed, feeling the weight of it all and unable to hold himself up against it. The angel had never flown to where Dean couldn't see him, and had never left the valley, at least not while Dean was there. Knowing how much he pissed off the angel made Dean want to throw up.

Cas said that he would die for Dean, just to be with him. But what did he mean? Would the angel die just to spend time with Dean, or did he truly want something more, something forbidden?

Dean knew he would die for the angel as well. He knew that he wanted so much more than he could allow himself to have. Even if Cas didn't know exactly what he wanted with Dean, he knew he wanted more.

Maybe it was worth the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think this situation is bad, just wait. I'm following the HHTYD storyline pretty closely after this, so be prepared for the sads. Do you think Dean will be able to mske it up to Cas? Let me know what you think, if you love it or hate it. Happy marriage equality/pride all! Yay!


	16. Truth Will Out You

It only took Dean a few hours to make a plan. Or part of a plan. The beginnings of a plan at least.

After Cas had left him alone in the valley, Dean allowed himself a few minutes to feel completely miserable before walking back to the village to carry out his almost-a-plan.

The realization of what he was doing didn't truly sink in until he was already under the arena, making his way through the darkened tunnels to the angel cages. He pushed past the thoughts telling him to go back, to forget the angels, and just be a good son and a good hunter. He had to do this.

He glimpsed into the final cage and spotted flaming red hair and wings. He plucked up his courage and cleared his throat to get the angel's attention.

Anna turned to face him. If she was surprised to see the human, she hid it well.

"Hello, Dean. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Dean blinked a few times before bravely stepping up to the bars on her cage.

"I need your help."

"Well I already knew that," she replied. "Tell me what happened."

So Dean told her. It was embarrassing opening himself up to someone who intimidated the hell out of him, but if he could trust anyone with the way he felt about Castiel, it was Anna.

"It wasn't until he flew away that I realized he was right. Some things are worth the risk. And I know he definitely is."

Anna's face was soft as she appraised him.

"So what is it that you want from me, Dean?"

"I want to release you, and all the angels. I want to end this war. But I can't do it alone."

Dean could feel her gaze down to his bones. If she decided to kill him, she would. No contest. He wondered why she was even still imprisoned. She had to be powerful enough to escape.

"You would do this all for Castiel? Risk everything for one almost a stranger to you?"

Dean would have expected this question to stump him, but instead he was ready.

"Cas isn't a stranger. Maybe I haven't known him all that long, but I already know him better than I know over half the people in my village. And as for the risk, of course I would risk it all for him. Without hesitation. But it's more than that isn't it? It's for us all. Too many have died for nothing. And the only way to stop it is to risk everything."

Anna smiled at him, accepting this answer.

"So let's get you out of here. I grabbed the keys from Bobby on my way here-"

"No, Dean," she stopped him.

"What?"

"You cannot release me or any of the others. Not yet."

"Why not?" he asked, completely bewildered.

"First of all, it is too dangerous for you. You will not be able to help angels or humans if you are killed now."

Dean closed his gaping mouth, feeling similarly to how it felt when Priestess Missouri, one of the village elders, chastised him for doing something stupid.

"Second, even if you released us, we would have nowhere to go," she said sadly, turning away from him.

"Wait, why can't you guys just go home?"

"We have no home to return to."

Anna rested her back against the stone wall, letting her wings fold flat. The lost look on her face made Dean think she looked just like a human. It made him wonder if they were very different from humans at all.

"It is law that we are banished from the nest forever. Angels are not allowed to consort with humans. We have been corrupted."

"Wait, but how would they even know we… consorted? And, hey, you're the only one here I've even talked to. Why wouldn't the others be able to go back?" Dean swept his arms out in the direction of the other cages.

The glare he received from the redhead in response made him take a step back in momentary fear.

"We have been corrupted! Tainted! Defiled and disgraced! We can never return!" She shouted.

After a moment to catch her breath, Anna seemed to calm again.

"You can't know that for sure. Once they find out it wasn't your fault they'll-" He decided to shut up when the angel sighed heavily.

"You just do not understand. It is law."

She looked pensive for a moment, as if trying to decide if she could trust him with important information.

"When I was young, a corrupt angel returned to the nest after escaping from his prison."

Dean could vaguely remember Bobby telling him of the only angel to escape from capture. The hunters didn't talk about it much. The memory wasn't exactly their proudest.

"His name was Gadreel. He was able to make it all the way back to the nest, begging to be taken back. His wings were torn, bloody, completely shredded. Injuries he had sustained in his escape. Mi… Our leader refused to even allow asylum. Gadreel was killed, his body burned without prayer. It was horrible."

He noticed the angel looked queasy. Dean had to admit he felt a little sick himself. That must be why Cas wasn't able to return either. He would be killed. It finally made sense.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She shook her head.

"No matter. The way it is is the way it is."

This wasn't fair. This wasn't right.

"I could… the valley Cas is in would probably be big enough. I have a few extra blankets that might…"

Anna looked at him sadly.

"You know that would never work, Dean. At least here we get food and shelter. You could never provide for this many angels. You are already starving yourself for one angel."

Dean scuffed his boots in the dirt, not looking at her.

"So if I can't release you, what should we do? I can't just sit here and do nothing anymore. I'll go insane!"

"Patience. All good things to those who wait. We need a plan. But do not lose hope. We are already one step closer to peace."

Dean nodded.

"I need time to think. In the meantime, I need you to take a message to Castiel for me. He is a brilliant tactician and I need his help on this."

"He was pissed when he flew off. I don't know when he will be back. Or maybe he got sick of my crap and won't come back at all."

Anna smiled.

"My brother will return to you. You may not yet understand, but I sense that he will always return to you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Dean frowned.

"You will find out soon or you won't. No go, before the keeper returns and you are caught." The angel urged.

"I… yeah, I should… Thank you, Anna."

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean had managed to leave the arena just as Bobby was walking past.

"Hey, boy. Have you seen the keys to the cages? I can't seem to find them and I've looked all over the shop."

Dean cleared his throat.

"Yeah, actually. I came out here to find you. They were on the ground, I figured you must've dropped 'em or something." He held the keys out to him.

Bobby eyed him suspiciously, making Dean nervous, but eventually took the keys and trudged by with a muttered thanks.

Once out of earshot, Dean heaved a sigh of relief and headed home.

He just barely managed to close the door and make it over to the table before collapsing in exhaustion. Missing so many meals and lack of sleep was slowly killing him.

"Dean? Are you okay?"

He turned his head to see Sammy sitting at the other end of the table, looking away from his reading to give his brother a concerned look.

"Yeah, Sammy. Just tired."

He closed his eyes.

He heard Sam sigh loudly and scoot closer towards him.

"Dean I know something is wrong. You haven't been sleeping. You are never at supper anymore. You've barely talked to me at all lately. Please tell me what's going on."

He just barely resisted opening his eyes, knowing his little brother would be giving him those puppy dog eyes that were impossible to resist.

"Please, Dean. I miss you."

And that hurt Dean. Knowing that he was hurting Sam by being so distant.

"Sam… I honestly would love to tell you, but you wouldn't believe me if I did."

He opened his eyes in time to see Sam wrinkle his nose.

"Is it Jo? I heard you were in training together. And it would explain why you mysteriously disappear every day."

"What?" The idea shocked him enough that he opened his mouth to deny it. Then closed it again quickly.

"No, it's something else. Just tell me, Dean. I promise I'll believe you." Damn his brother for knowing him so well.

Dean took a deep breath to steady himself before sitting up and facing his brother.

"Okay. Do you remember the day we talked about angels? And you said maybe fighting them was… was wrong?"

Sam's eyes widened, but trained himself to nod calmly.

"I said you were crazy, and told you never to talk about it again. But something happened. And I think maybe you had a point."

He gave his brother a quick summary of meeting Cas, and eventually Anna, leaving out most of his… whatever it was between them. Sam stayed quiet through it all, letting him tell the entire story, nodding and gasping at appropriate times.

"I just think it's time we stop fighting. It's useless."

The look in Sammy's eyes was almost too much, full of admiration and pride for his brother.

"Dean, that's great. I-"

Both brothers jumped at the sound of the door slamming open loudly. They sat up straight and attempted their best poker faces as John walked in.

"Dean!" His father yelled.

Dean flinched, panicking for a moment, wondering if he had somehow been caught sneaking down to see the angels.

But when he looked at John he was not angry but looking at Dean in awe.

"Bobby gave me the best news! You've done so well in training, you will be the first to face your own angel! Just you and that winged beast alone in the arena. You will slay your first angel and become a hunter!"

Dean looked at his father in disbelief. He looked over at Sam to see the look mirrored on his face.

"But why?"

"It's tradition. You were the best in your class. And by this time in two days you will have killed an angel!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really meant to have this one up sooner, but hopefully it's okay cuz it's a little longer than mi usual chapters. I actually really love Gadreel and it was terrible writing such a horrible story for him, but I needed to throw in a tad bit of back story somewhere, right? Oh well, hope anyone still reading this weird piece of quasi-literature enjoyed and let me know what you think!


	17. TLC

It was a total disaster. His entire life felt like a huge nightmare.

Not only was he going to be forced to kill an angel, he was being forced to do it with the entire village watching the kill-or-be-killed showdown. And not that he had any indication whatsoever, but with his luck they would bring Anna out for him to fight.

What the Hel was he supposed to do?

Dean went to bed early that night, but wasn't able to sleep.

Sammy checked in on him after he finished supper, offering the bits he had saved for his brother, but Dean declined. On a normal day he would never let Sammy sacrifice his own food for him, but just thinking about his father's announcement made him feel sick.

Reluctant to leave his brother, Sam sat with him in bed that evening, first trying to soothe him and eventually giving up and telling him silly stories to distract him. Before either of them knew it, the smaller (but rapidly growing) boy was curled in bed with his brother, and Dean was finally able to fall into a restless sleep.

The next morning wasn't much better. He flew out of bed, almost sending Sammy spinning onto the floor, and rushed outside to vomit. Unfortunately, since he had barely eaten anything for days all that came out was a putrid yellow bile, which seemed impossible to rinse completely from his mouth.

He rushed out as soon as possible to the valley, having to stop several times when dizziness and nausea threatened to make him pass out.

Finally he made it to the valley, and looked around for the angel, admittedly a little frantic.

When he saw the entire valley was empty, he fell to his knees and spots of black clouded his vision. He idly wondered if he collapsed from fatigue and died alone in the forest how long it would take for the Hunters to find his body or if they even would.

"Dean?"

He spun around so fast that his vision went entirely black for a moment, causing him to panic.

"Cas! Cas, I don't know what's happening. I thought things were finally going right. I was going to fight, for you. And then everything went to shit and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, CAS!"

It wasn't until the angel knelt in front of him and wiped his cheeks tenderly that he realized he had started crying.

"Dean, I cannot understand you. What happened?"

The blond opened his mouth to answer, but his body seemed to have a mind of its own because his arms were wrapping themselves around the angel's waist and he was cuddling close. He would never admit it as long as he lived, but Dean let himself break in Cas's arms, sobbing into the angel's neck and clutching tightly.

The angel, though assuredly still confused about the situation, seemed to understand enough to wrap his arms around Dean and squeeze him back. He even made little cooing sounds, which would've made Dean laugh if he didn't feel like his entire world was falling apart.

It felt like an eternity, but Dean was finally able to stop crying. His head felt like exploding, and sobbing had done nothing to help his nausea or lightheadedness. He wondered if it would be so terrible to fall asleep right here in the angel's arms and never wake up.

"Dean," his name on Castiel's tongue felt like a prayer.

He summoned the rest of his strength and forced himself to sit up and look at Cas.

The angel gave him a sad half-smile before reaching to the side.

Dean hadn't noticed before, but Cas had been holding one of the cloths Dean used to bring him food. The angel presented it to him and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a large amount of berries and nuts.

It took Dean a moment to realize they were unfamiliar to him.

"Cas, where did you find these?" He managed to croak over the thankfully lessening lump in his throat.

He watched as the large black wings rustled behind him.

"I have been testing how far I can fly each night after you leave. I found these in another forest. Don't worry, they are safe. I saw many birds and animals eating them."

Dean blinked.

"That's great, Cas. I'm glad you were able to find food you like."

"They are for you, Dean."

"What?"

Castiel took a deep breath before placing the parcel into Dean's lap.

"I know you have not been eating properly ever since we met. You have been so kind sharing your food with me, I wanted to return the favor. Now you look like you might faint. I want you to eat, then rest. Then we shall talk."

Dean was too exhausted to argue. He was only able to stomach about half of the sweet berries and nuts, but it seemed to satisfy the angel enough to lead him over to where he slept.

Again he tried to protest, but could already feel his eyelids drooping as Cas laid behind him and draped his huge wing over him like a blanket. Seconds later, Dean was asleep.

…

When he woke Dean was slightly confused. It was darker than he thought it would be, getting much too close to sunset for his liking. He was also surprised to realize he was hungry. Last, but most certainly not least, he realized that Castiel's warm and heavy wing was still wrapped around him like a black blanket of feathers.

"Are you awake, Dean?" he felt Cas's breath against the back of his neck making him shiver.

"Yeah, Cas. How long have I been asleep?"

Dean reluctantly crawled out from underneath the angel's wing to stretch, feeling more rested than he could remember for a long time despite sleeping on the hard ground.

"You've been sleeping most of the day. I was about to wake you. It is getting late."

Dean nodded, awkwardly avoiding the angel's bright blue stare.

"You should eat more. Then we can talk about what happened."

Scarfing down the rest of the food was easy, but he wouldn't admit to Cas that he was still surprisingly hungry. He probably shouldn't eat too much more after having gone so long not eating anyways.

"After you left yesterday, I went down to the cages to talk to Anna."

Cas sat up, shocked by Dean's confession.

"You were right, Cas. I still don't know what we are or what this is. But the way you make me feel… I know that it's worth fighting for. But I want to make others understand too. We don't have to fight. We really aren't that different."

If Dean was at all nervous about expressing such deep feelings to the angel, the look on his face made it all worthwhile. It was the happiest he had seen the angel since he first realized he would be able to fly again.

"Dean," Cas said, voice filled with wonder.

Dean frowned.

"But that's not all, Cas. Anna agreed to help, and started making a plan. She said she needs your help too."

"Is that not a good thing?"

Dean heaved a sigh.

"When I got home, I was so happy but so exhausted. I told Sammy about you, I hope that's okay. But then my dad got home and ruined everything. Apparently I've been doing so well in angel training, using all those tricks you taught me, that I've been selected to be the first to face an angel alone in the arena. Cas, I'm sorry, but it's a fight to the death. And I have no idea what to do."

Castiel gasped, looking away for a moment as the gravity of what Dean was saying sunk in.

"You told your brother everything?"

"That's the part your focusing on?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"I'm having an admittedly difficult grasping the last part of your tale. This seems like a better place to begin."

"Well, no I didn't tell him everything. Not the stuff about… you know…"

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, but was happily surprised when Castiel nodded his understanding.

"Besides it was him who started thinking about the fighting in the first place. How did it really start? I mean, we've been told a million times that the angels attacked our village first, but that can't be the entire story. Even if it's true, it's not fair that so many of us, both of us, are dying when we know absolutely nothing about each other. He opened up my eyes, and now I'm going to be the one to stop the fighting. Even if it kills me."

The two smiled at each other, before Dean noticed Cas's eyes glance at his lips.

Dean forced himself to muster up all the courage he could before leaning forward and kissing the angel.

It was heaven, no pun intended. Just like last time, the angel's lips were soft and slightly chapped. Dean pulled away slightly to rest his forehead against the angel's only for Cas to surge forward and claim his lips again.

He sighed happily, allowing himself to kiss the angel over and over again until his lips felt raw and they were both breathless. They finally broke apart to gasp for air, but they were both much happier than before.


	18. How It All Began and Other Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a little deep in this chapter, especially with religion. I'm not saying anything in this chapter is my view on any faith, I just tried to write what the characters would be feeling in these situations. I also went a little deeper into the background of the angels. I mixed mi own stuff up with the Christian hierarchy of angels. In other news, I'm pretty sure there will be only three more chapters after this one, so we are getting close! Enjoy chapter 18 and let me know how awful it is!

It took a while for them to recover. Even though they were both gasping for air, every time they tried to catch their breath they were drawn back to each other's lips.

Finally they were both able to calm down enough to remember the situation they were in. They sat together, facing each other cross legged with their knees and foreheads touching. The intimacy of the position both terrified and excited Dean.

"What else do you speak to Anna about? You seem to be interacting with her easier now."

Dean closed his eyes, trying not to think about Anna's smirk when he admitted his feelings for Cas.

"Well, she told me why you stay here in this valley. Why you don't try to go back to the nest."

"What?" The angel pulled back in shock to look in Dean's eyes.

Dean cleared his throat nervously.

"Yeah, she told me about this angel who was able to escape and make it back to the nest. Godril? Gabrielle?..."

"Gadreel," Cas murmured.

"Yeah, him. She told me what happened to him when he tried to go back. Cas, man, I'm really sorry. Those guys are dicks. It's not fair that they won't let you go back for something that wasn't your fault." He tried to console the angel.

"But it was my fault, Dean. If I had been more careful, had been paying more attention to my surroundings, you wouldn't have captured me and I would still be at the nest."

Dean looked away, unable to breathe around the invisible knife that seemed to be stabbing him in the chest at Castiel's words.

"Not that I'm not happy with the way things turned out, but it is still partially my fault for not being vigilant. I deserve to be banished.

Dean was shocked by how sure he sounded. It almost made him wonder if they were wrong about ending the feud. If angels could be so heartless to their own kind, how could they be expected to treat humans any better?

Dean shook the dark thoughts out of his mind. That still didn't mean they deserved to die.

"That doesn't matter. Soon enough we can stop the fighting and you will be welcomed back like a hero!" Dean exclaimed proudly, taking the angel's soft hands into his own.

Cas smiled meekly back at him, squeezing his hands.

"Now we need to get planning. Anna told me you could help figure something out. Said you were the better strategist."

Cas snorted at the words.

"Only because that is all the other angels allowed me to do."

"What do you mean?"

Cas leaned away from him, looking down at his knees apparently unable to meet Dean's eyes.

"I've always been different than the other angels. I'm the first to be born with black wings in longer than anyone can remember. I acted differently, tending to wander away from the nest when all the others like to stay close."

Dean nodded, understanding how it felt to be different.

"Michael assumed I would cause trouble and tried to keep me from battle. The night you captured me was only my fifth time coming this far away from the nest."

Dean immediately opened his mouth to apologize before the rest of the sentence sunk in.

"Who is Michael?"

Apparently Castiel was no longer afraid to spill the angels' secrets like he was before. He trusted Dean completely.

"Michael is our leader of sorts. We had many in the past, but Michael is the only one left alive. He tells us what God commands from us, and we do it."

"Wait you follow orders from a guy saying he's getting them from your god, but you've never actually seen this god or have any proof that he's not just giving the orders himself?"

For a moment, Dean thought he had accidentally pissed the angel off again, but felt even worse when Cas looked up and there were tears in his eyes.

"I try so hard to believe. I pray every day. I followed orders, I stayed quiet. But I can't help but wonder… what is real?"

Dean squeezed the angel's hands again, feeling terrible about accidentally bringing up such a sore subject.

"Tell me more about Michael and the others. I want to know as much as possible so I'm prepared."

Cas nodded, wiping his eyes before looking at Dean again.

"You told me once that humans classify angels according to the color of their wings."

Dean nodded in confirmation.

"Well, that almost works in most cases, but that's not quite how it works. Angels have a hierarchy of power. Seraphim are lowest ranking and have the least power. They also tend to have lighter colored wings. Cherubim have more power and Archangels have the most. The archangels are our leaders, though like I said, the only one who remains is Michael."

"And which are you? Dean asked curiously.

"I am Cherubim, technically, though I was more of an outcast than anything."

He paused to lean closer to Dean as if he needed the proximity before shrugging and continuing on.

"It was an assembly of sorts. Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel gave us commands from God and kept order in the nest. But when humans began coming closer and closer to our land, the archangels were thrown into chaos.

"Michael and Gabriel said that God commanded us to leave the humans alone, that they were harmless creatures. Lucifer disagreed and gathered an army to attack the humans, claiming that they were too advanced and would overthrow us. Later it was discovered that Raphael sided with Lucifer."

"So is that how the war really began? The angels really were the ones who started it?" Dean wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"Only some. Lucifer's army attacked the humans but the humans were able to fight back. Michael was able to defeat Lucifer, and eventually Raphael as well. Gabriel went missing and was presumed to have died in the battle. But by then it was too late. The humans hated us and we were forced to defend ourselves from the attacks. Over the years Michael has changed his mind, banishing angels that ever had contact with corrupt humanity."

Dean could barely breathe. Was it really possible? Centuries of war over a little disagreement?

"I never believed Michael, I strongly believe many angels know the truth but are too scared of doubting God's word to act against him," Castiel spoke as if he knew from experience, which he probably did.

"This could be good news. If we can convince the humans, I mean the hunters, to stop attacking the angels, maybe some will realize we aren't corrupt and stop attacking us. Eventually all the fighting would stop!"

Cas just looked at him sadly, making Dean feel a little childish for imagining such a quick and impossible occurrence.

"I mean, it'll take way more work than I just made it sound, but it's worth a shot!"

"Dean, tomorrow you are expected to fight and kill an angel. How are you expecting to convince other angels that humans are not corrupt?"

Dean smiled confidently.

"I'll have to convince my father to call it off. I know if I could just show him that angels only fight to defend themselves, we can stop the barbaric killing ceremony."

Castiel looked at him fondly.

"If anyone can do it, it is you, Dean."

They smiled to each other again and leaned forward to kiss once more.

It was only when he pulled away that Dean noticed how late it was. He jumped to his feet.

"Shit, Cas, I really need to leave. I'm sorry."

Cas shook his head and kissed the human one last time before watching him run off into the forest, bright blue eyes never leaving the man's form until he faded into the shadows.

...

Dean wasn't surprised to see Sammy awaiting his return, sitting on Dean's bed and reading yet another book. When he heard Dean enter, he sat up and looked at him eagerly.

"So? What happened?"

Dean smiled and told him what he and the angel discussed. He knew Sammy would get a kick out of learning about the angels' history and sort of government, and was not disappointed when the kid's eyes widened twice their size and his mouth fell open.

"I have to convince dad to call off the killing ceremony tomorrow."

"But Dean, that's impossible. The ceremony happens every year. I've never heard of it being cancelled, not even during the Great Frost," Sam pointed out.

Dean almost agreed with him.

"We have to find a way. There's no way I'm gonna be able to kill an angel tomorrow one way or another."

Almost as if he knew the boys were talking about him, the door slammed open, signaling John's arrival.

"Come on, I'll help you as best I can," Sam stood and pulled Dean along after him.

They found their father sitting at the kitchen table, helping himself to what Dean assumed had been Sam's supper.

"Dad, I need to talk to you."

John smiled up at his son.

"Getting nervous about the big day tomorrow? Don't worry, you're a Winchester. You'll do just fine."

Dean opened his mouth to protest but John rambled on.

"Have to admit I was a little worried about you there for a little while. But look at you now! Top of your class! I can barely believe it. I just knew it would happen eventually."

That's when Dean realized his father was drunk. John tended to have loose lips when he had been boozing it up with the other hunters.

"Dad, this is important. I can't kill an angel tomorrow. Or any other day for that matter!"

John's brows furrowed for a moment before his expression brightened and he burst into laughter.

"Don't worry, boy. You'll knock 'em dead tomorrow if it's the last thing you do."

John confidently stood, taking a moment to steady himself against the table when he swayed dangerously, and walked to his bedroom, presumably to pass out until the ceremony.

The boys stood in the kitchen staring helplessly at the door.

Fuck.


	19. The Shit-eth Hath Hit-eth the Fan...eth

Dean didn't get any sleep that night. Sammy sat with him all night, first attempting to distract him and then giving up and sitting in silence.

Dean's entire body screamed for him to run to Cas and let the angel hold him tight. He wanted to run away and find a place to hide where no one would find them.

But he knew he couldn't. There was no where they could go, and he could never live with himself if he left everyone to fight and die forever. And he could never live without Sam.

When the sun rose, Dean forced himself to eat breakfast at his brother's insistence, though everything tasted like ashes. Halfway through the meal, John stumbled in mumbling a greeting before grabbing a hunk of bread and slamming the door on his way out to the arena, once again leaving Dean with his mouth hanging open.

He cursed his father, almost collapsing to the floor in defeat before feeling Sammy wrap his arms around him and guide him back to the bedroom.

"I know this sucks, Dean. But now you have to get ready. We will figure something out, I promise, but right now you have to get ready," he said in a soothing voice, like he was instructing a child.

Sam calmly guided Dean through washing and dressing, making sure Dean was presentable before starting another pep talk on their way outside.

It wasn't until they had reached the arena that the fog melted away and reality set in. Every person that congratulated him and patted him on the back just made him feel even sicker. And when he stood in front of Bobby, he just barely managed not to upchuck all over the man's boots.

"You ready, kid?" The man asked, eyeing him.

Dean shook his head.

"That's okay. I've watched you in training. Yer ready for this."

He knew it was pointless to respond so he ignored yet another pat on his shoulder and followed the man to grab weapons and armor.

"Okay, you wait here while I grab the angel. When you hear the horn, walk through that gate into the arena and it will be there waiting for you," Bobby turned to walk away.

"Wait, Bobby!" Dean called.

The man turned back.

"Can you tell me who… which angel I have to k… fight," Dean stumbled through his words.

"I'm not supposed to, but I really don't see why it matters. You're fighting the rauõrvængr."

"Of course. Anna. What a surprise," Dean muttered angrily to himself after Bobby was gone.

He knew right now his father would be giving a speech to the village about Dean's hard work and bravery, despite not being there to witness it or even knowing what the hell he was talking about. He could faintly hear the sound of the crowd screaming, always excited for a good fight. Dean wondered if it mattered to them who died, the human or the angel, as long as they got blood. He shook that away and tried to focus.

Maybe it was a good thing he was fighting Anna. She knew him, and knew he wouldn't want to hurt her. Maybe she could even find a way to escape and make it to Cas.

Before he knew it, Dean heard the deep bellow of the ram's horn, signaling the fight to begin.

He slowly stepped into the arena, looking around at the huge crowd clustered in the stands to watch. Then he noticed, straight across from him, Anna was entering the arena with her eyes watching the huge crowd as well. Then she noticed him.

He gave her a sad smile, but waited until she moved to do anything else.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't realize Anna might not understand the situation at first glance. He watched as the angel's eyes and wings both flared and she stepped into a defense position.

He gasped when it dawned on him how it must seem. Like betrayal.

Dean shook his head, trying to convey that he didn't want to fight, but the angel just looked at him in confusion.

Dean sighed and looked around at the crowd, which had begun murmuring in confusion. He wasn't sure if it would work, but he had to try.

Slowly, keeping careful eye contact with the redhead, Dean dropped his sword and kicked it away, followed by his shield. His stepped closer to the angel, who had not yet relaxed, but the anger was gone from her eyes.

As he began to take off the heavier pieces of his armor, he heard the crowd get continuously louder, trying to figure out what the crazy kid was doing.

He was only a few yards away from the angel when all hell broke loose.

Anna had seemed to accept what Dean was doing and had twitched her wings. Dean knew it was from excitement, but from the shouts and gasps in the stands he was the only one. There was one shout louder than the rest, and out of nowhere he saw his dad racing toward them, pulling his sword and ready to attack.

Anna tensed, ready again to fight, but Dean leapt in front to block her. He grabbed his father's arm to knock the sword from it, but failed and instead hooked a leg behind his knee and tackled him, sending them both to the ground.

The crowd was screaming now as they watched the two men wrestle. John was finally able to flip them, knocking the air out of Dean and pinning him to the ground. He tried to breathe but his father's huge mass weighed down heavily on his chest.

Then suddenly the weight was gone and he could breathe. Dean gasped for breath before crawling to his feet, eyes searching for his father.

He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw his father a few feet away, wrestling with someone else. Someone with huge black wings-

"Cas!" Dean shouted without thinking, hurrying to separate the two.

It took all his strength, but was able to pull Cas off of his father and stand between the two. John struggled to his feet, obviously considering attacking again.

Dean glanced behind at Cas, taking in the angel's glowing eyes and his grip on his sword that appears from nowhere. He felt relieved when he appeared to be undamaged.

"Dean, what do you think you're doing? Are you insane?" John shouted, adjusting his grip on his sword.

"Dad, stop! He won't hurt me. He was protecting me!" Dean shouted back.

John stared at him incredulously.

"They aren't what we think they are. They have feelings, they have families just like us! They have a nest just like or villiage and they-"

"You know where the nest is? What we've been searching for for years, for generations, and you kept it a secret?"

Dean couldn't believe his father.

"No, I don't know where it is. That's not the point! We can't keep fighting with them. Cas and I, we…" Dean suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to finish that sentence.

"You've been talking to them? Giving away our secrets? Betraying the entire village?"

"No, of course not! I-"

"I can't believe you would do such a thing. No son of mine could betray me like this. In fact, you are no son of mine," John shouted vehemently.

Dean gasped in shock, his heart dropping. He wanted to cry out, but John was turning away and Dean realized why.

During their shouting match, other hunters had made their way into the arena, one group taking down Anna and twisting her wings so she couldn't fight back, another doing the same to Cas. Dean shouted and went to rescue Cas, but felt arms constricting around him and pulling him back. He fought against them, trying to get to the black wing angel crying out to him, staring at him helplessly with wide blue eyes.

He couldn't break from the arms, watching the angels being hauled out of the arena and collapsing when they were out of sight.

He realized Bobby was murmuring in his ear, but couldn't understand the words. Nothing made sense anymore. He couldn't see anything or feel anything. He felt numb.

Dean barely noticed when Bobby's arms were replaced by someone smaller until he was sobbing into Sam's shoulder. He didn't notice John shouting to the hunters and leading them to gather their weapons and armor, readying them for war.

…

What felt like both seconds and hours later, Dean looked up to see the arena empty. Sam leaned back, leaving one hand to rub his back while Dean took in what had happened.

"Where did Dad go?" Dean asked when he finally found his voice.

Sam looked at him sadly.

"He and the hunters are leaving to go find the nest and slaughter the angels. He's forcing Castiel to lead them there."

Forcing. Torturing.

"Fuck, Odin, shit. We have to stop them."

"But how?" Sam asked.

"We can help."

Both boys turned to find a small cluster of people watching them. Dean realized it was the other kids from training. It was Jo that had spoken.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"We've watched you during training. You always handled the angels differently. Like you knew something about them that we didn't. And you did," explained Lisa.

"And as much as I love a good fight, it's not fair for us to kill them all," Victor confessed.

"You're right, we have to stop them," agreed Garth.

Ash merely grunted and nodded, though he might've just been shaking hair from his face.

Dean let Sam help him to his feet.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting close to the end! I do plan on finishing this before I move back to Uni (less than two weeks now!). Let me know what you guys think! Hope you liked it!


	20. Uncage the Angels

Getting a piggy-back ride from an angel flying at top speeds through the sky had never particularly been something Dean ever wanted to do. Like ever.

It was worse than the time Cas had scooped him up in his arms to see how far he could fly with the added weight. It was awkward clinging to an angel he had never met. As terrifying as it was, Dean instinctively knew he would only feel even the slightest bit comfortable flying with Castiel.

Dean desperately wished he had had the time to fashion some sort of harness to keep him from sliding off the angel's back. He could already feel his arm and leg muscles screaming from how tightly he was holding on.

He looked at everyone else clutching desperately to their angels around him. It was the only way Dean could think of to catch up to the Hunters' speedy boats in time.

The group had ran together underneath the arena to the angel cages. Dean had raced to Anna's cage, first checking to see she was okay, and freeing her from the cage. It had taken much more convincing than Dean would have preferred, but eventually the others had agreed to free the angels and ask them to help. Anna of course was the one to convince the angel to let the kids practically ride them.

Dean, however, refused to get onto Anna's back. While he knew that she was more than strong enough to carry two of him, it was too awkward to think about climbing onto her back.

Instead he had asked an angel with sapphire blue wings, apparently named Ion. Though it had taken forever to get the other angels to even say a few words in order to learn his name.

Anna instead offered to carry Jo, and the two girls instantly hit it off, though it made Dean very uncomfortable for some reason. They now flew on his left, seeming to chat to each other, though Dean had no idea what they could be talking about.

On Anna's other side was Ash and an angel with huge, light yellow colored wings named Balthazar. Both seemed bored with the proceedings, Ash possibly napping on the angel's back.

Flying on Dean's right was Lisa and Hannah, a smaller angel with spotted wings. Lisa caught him looking and gave him a nervous smile. Next to her was Victor, nervously clutching to a mean-looking angel with wings the color of grass named Inias.

Somewhere behind them Dean knew Garth and Samandriel were struggling to keep up, having almost crashed into a few cliffs earlier, though Dean was too scared to turn enough to look for them.

Dean sighed, knowing his brother was still pissed that he didn't let him come. Though he had used the excuse that there were no other angels available to take Sam, he just hated the idea of something happening to his brother because of him. So he had instructed Sammy to help calm the people left in the village and keep Ellen distracted so she wouldn't realize Jo and Ash had disappeared.

Dean just hoped all this planning wasn't for nothing and that they could make it in time to stop his father.

"Something's wrong," he heard Anna say.

"Are we close?" he asked her when she flew closer to him and Ion.

"Yes. Just around that ridge. But I can sense something bad is happening. We might be too late."

The group flew around the ridge and took in the chaotic sight.

What appeared to be a large mountainous island was under attack. Dean could see the Hunters' ships gathered around one side. Both the mountain and the ships were burning with different colors, evidence of the Hunters' weapons and the angels' return fire. It was a war.

Dean stared in horror as he witnessed a group of hunters take down an angel flying too low past them, using their swords to first disable the angel's wings, then to kill. Before Dean can so much as scream at the gruesome sight, another angel with huge tan wings appeared behind them, managing to send two hunters up in smoke before flying off again.

It was terrible. Dean felt suddenly powerless. There was no way he could stop the inevitable massacre.

They were close now, close enough they could hear the cries of angel and hunter alike. Dean tried not to gag from the stench of burning flesh that permeated the air.

In that moment Dean was certain he would fail. What could they do? Even with their weapons, even with the angels and their power on their side, they couldn't attack anyone. None of them had even finished training and had never been in a real fight before. It was hopeless.

He looked over at the others flying on either side of him. Lisa and Victor both looked like they were ready to be sick, while Jo and Ash regarded the scene with similar looks of detached calm.

"We have to stop this," he barely caught Jo's voice over the sound of battle.

Dean was about to ask if she had any brilliant ideas on how to do that, because he was out, when a loud noise echoed across the water from the center of the mountain. All six angels practically stopped midair, causing their riders to be jostled uncomfortably.

"What was that?" He heard Victor call out shakily.

"Oh, God. Please, no," Ion murmured beneath him. From all sides he heard similar worried mumbles from the other angels.

He turned to Anna, hoping for some explanation.

The redhead looked back at him, obviously trying to hide her panic.

"It's Michael. He's coming out to join the battle. He hasn't left the mountain since he gained power. He will kill us all."

They were still much too far away to do anything. The group watched helplessly as a huge section of the mountainside first began to shudder then crack and crumble. With an earsplitting crash, the entirety of the mountain wall collapsed, and from within a large glowing figure emerged.

It was like no angel Dean had ever seen. Michael's face was pale and beautiful, but his murderous expression was enough to make him shudder in fear. He was much larger than the other angels as well, at least ten feet tall. Sprouting from his back were two enourmous wings of pure gold, each the size of a small boat.

At the sight, the hunters began to retreat, running back to the ships in masses.

The golden angel wasted no time before starting his attack. With each powerful movement of his hands, golden light erupted like pillars of flame. It was a matter of seconds before all of the hunters' ships were aflame and humans were scattering away like scared mice.

It wasn't until he saw the ships burning in bright colors that Dean realized how truly terrified he was. Not of Michael or the other angels nor the idea of dying in battle, but of the idea of losing Cas. Dean had not seen him in the battle, and was most likely still on one of the ships. Could he have survived the explosions? He had to find out. He had to save his angel.

"Let's go. We need to stop Michael!" He felt himself shout.

With one determined look exchanged with both Anna and Jo, Dean felt himself shoot forward as the angels began to once again fly full speed towards the island.

The hunters were now running toward the other side of the island, only a few figures staying behind, now directly fighting the golden angel. Dean didn't have to guess who had stayed behind to let the others get away.

"Garth, you have the scrolls memorized. Do we know anything about gulrvængr?" Dean shouted over the air rushing past them.

"Not much. Though because he is so big, I'd bet he's slower with his movements. He packs a mean punch, but he doesn't seem to have very good aim."

Dean looked at the gold flames that had begun to cover the island and had to agree. It had taken Michael several tries to hit all the ships, and the hunters on the ground seemed to be evading most of his attacks. But they would tire quickly.

"Okay, I need you guys to distract Michael. Try to make quick turns so he can't keep up with your moves. Try to avoid the other angels. If they attack you, defend yourself but don't kill. Anna, any other advice?"

"If you need to defend against angels, go for the eyes. Angels rely heavily on sight for flying and it will take long enough to heal to incapacitate them for some time. Same with Michael, though it will be much less effective," the redhead advised carefully.

"You heard her. I need to go find Cas, once I find him we will take down Michael and finish this war once and for all!"

He watched for a moment after they approached Michael to make sure they could handle themselves before shouting to Ion about Cas being on the ships. Together, they searched through the burning wreckage.

"There!" Dean shouted.

Below he could see Castiel collared and chained with a heavy brace. The angel was struggling to free himself. Though the fire had thankfully avoided him so far, it was growing steadily closer, almost touching the tips of his wings.

Dean told Ion to help the others before jumping off his back and onto the ship.

"Cas!"

"Dean!"

He ran to the angel and tugged on the heavy chains binding him to the ship's deck.

"Dean, what are you doing here? You must run. Michael is here!" The angel's hand waved uselessly in its cuff, trying to grab Dean or maybe push him away.

"I'm not leaving you. I have to get you out of here," Dean tried to move the cuffs.

Cas opened his mouth to argue but was cut off my a loud shout. Dean turned just in time to see Garth and Samandriel flying sideways and crashing to the ground to avoid a huge golden flame. Which instead headed right for their ship.

Dean was suddenly surrounded by a suffocating darkness. He opened his eyes and realized he was underwater; the blast had destroyed the ship.

He frantically searched for Cas, almost gasping in a mouthful of water as he saw Cas, still bound in his chains, sinking ever deeper into the sea. Quickly he swam down to the angel, who was again struggling against his chains. Dean tried to help, but soon saw black spots and felt himself go dizzy from the lack of air.

Dean knew what was happening, and grabbed the angel's hand before closing his eyes and letting his head tip backwards. It was disappointing, knowing he couldn't save Cas or his father, or anyone at all. But he had found his angel. At least he wouldn't die alone.

But then he was being yanked backward towards the surface and away from Castiel. When he broke the surface of the water, he gasped in air and tried to cough all the water from his lungs. Dean was pushed onto the shore and was able to look back just in time to see John diving back under the water.

Dean panted, waiting desperately for his father to reemerge. But instead of his father he saw black wings erupting from the water. Cas pushed John onto the rocks before flying a few feet away to shake the water from his wings.

Dean couldn't focus on just how happy he was at the sight and immediately rushed over to the angel, who gave him a brilliant smile and nodded in the direction of where the battle with Michael still raged.

He was about to climb onto the angel's back before John stopped him.

"You know you don't have to do this," he said quieter than Dean had ever heard his father speak.

"Yes, I do. I want the fighting to end. This is the only way to do it."

"Dean, I'm sorry. For everything."

"I know."

And with that Dean climbed onto Castiel's back with enough grace it seemed he had done it his entire life. Together they flew into the golden flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't catch it, gulrvængr means "gold wings" which i kinda figure all the archangels had. Next chapter is the final one!


	21. Chapter 21

Compared to Ion, wrapping his arms around Castiel felt amazing. He barely felt the shock of fear as the angel's powerful wings rose the two into the sky. Dean allowed himself a moment to bask in just how perfect he felt, pressing a kiss into the Cas's neck that was returned on his hand. Then he forced himself to focus.

Only a few hunters remained, distracting the angels while Dean's friends kept Michael busy. He saw his father fending off a large angel with bronze colored wings but not using fatal attacks for which Dean was greatly relieved.

He squeezed Cas gently, "You ready for this?" He murmured in the angel's ear.

Dean felt him nod. "Yes. It's time. This needs to be over, one way or another."

Good to know they were on the same page.

With another powerful beat of his wings, Cas took them into the battle.

Everyone was a mess, but at least they were all alive. Jo, Anna, Lisa, and Hannah were in front of Michael, taking the brunt of his attacks as they were the fastest. Victor and Inias delivered more powerful hits whenever the girls succeeded in gaining Michael's full attention. Unfortunately, Garth and Samandriel were still stranded on the ground, but seemed to be regrouping and headed to help the hunters.

"Guess we are late to the party, huh?" Dean shouted to the girls.

"Perfect timing though, I think he's starting to tire out," Victor answered for them before narrowly dodging a golden ball of flame from the decidedly not tired out archangel.

"Filthy heathens! You are traitors to your own blood, to God himself! You will be dammed to hell!" Michael was spitting angrily, eyes blazing with painfully bright golden light.

The other angels had apparently gotten used to the archangel's threats, but he felt Cas tense under him.

"You okay, man?"

Cas shook himself. "Yes, I just…"

"You're not going to hell. You have me, remember? I protect you from all the bad shit. God ain't got nothin' on us. We get to choose our own destiny and we are going to make it out of here together."

Cas was silent before nodding and squeezing the arms that were wrapped around his upper chest. "Thank you, Dean."

"Thank you, Cas. I love you."

Dean didn't even have time to freak out about the words spilling from his lips without control. "I love you too."

A loud boom echoed across the island, reminding them where they were. He turned his attention back to the battle.

While distracting Michael had been a good plan at the beginning, Dean could tell the others were getting tired. The angels' movements were slowing and Lisa was barely able to lift her sword anymore.

"We need to get him away from the others. How high do you think you can fly?"

Castiel seemed to read his mind and he flew between Michael and the others. Dean waved them off while Cas got the archangel's attention.

"Hey, assbutt!" the angel shouted, tossing a ball of ice blue flame that was bright enough to hurt Dean's eyes.

"Assbutt?" Dean mocked before they shot up into the sky with an enraged Michael hot on their heels.

He hung on to Cas tightly as they sped around the island, dodging sprays of fire and shrapnel from rocks caught in the crossfire. They had made it away from the other angels and past the hunters who were retreating to a patch of sea with dark, craggy rocks branching away from the island.

"Time to disappear," Dean pointed up to the clouds.

Cas slowed a moment to gather his momentum before rocketing straight up, leaving Dean's stomach somewhere in the sea below them. Michael screamed in anger below them, taking longer to change direction and follow them upwards.

Once they were covered by clouds, Cas moved parallel to their lower blanket, keeping a distance from the flashes of golden light revealing Michael's position.

Dean was about to shout to Cas, but the angel was already taking a different approach. He flew back to Michael, flying behind the archangel before turning on the spot and sending a sharp blast of light at him.

He wasn't expecting the cry of pain. Cas had made a direct hit. When they were far enough away to turn around again, Dean could see the blood dripping from Michael's face. It looked like the archangel was crying blood. It was unsettling.

Now Castiel was swooping forward, getting ready to attack again. Dean thought they would make it, swinging around from the opposite side this time, but Michael had anticipated their attack. Cas tried dodging the flame, but it was too close. Dean could feel the heat scorch his skin and could smell hair burning.

And then they were falling.

"Cas?" Dean shouted in alarm.

"The wing. It's on fire. It's burning."

He looked back to see golden embers dancing across the prosthetic wing. They were screwed.

"It's okay. We got this, Cas."

The angel nodded and focused on controlling their fall. They broke from the cover of the clouds only to see Michael still chasing them.

Cas turned so they were facing the archangel with their backs to the rapidly approaching ground.

"Not yet," Dean shouted.

Michael steadily gained on them, preparing to send another wave of flames. Dean waited until the archangel was only yards away.

"Now!"

Cas send a carefully aimed bolt of lightning colored flame into Michael's face right as he let out a shout. Dean watched in sick fascination as the flames encompassed his face, trailing into the archangel's eyes and mouth, setting his hair aflame and even travelling down as far as his upper chest.

The angel let out a choked wail as the blue flame mixed with gold. When Michael's body collapsed, the flames collided in a large explosion, the force hitting them and causing Dean to lose his grip.

He saw the flames chasing them through the air, Cas desperately pumping his huge, black wings trying to reach Dean. Dean wondered if it would hurt when he hit the ground. Then, for the second time that night, Dean's vision went dark and he lost consciousness.

…

John rushed across the island to where he had seen the angel fall. He knew the others were following him, but he didn't care. He needed to know if his son was okay.

He found the angel lying in a heap, large wings covering its body entirely to protect itself. It groaned, turning onto its side without moving its wings. John could see one of the wings, the mechanical one he assumed was of his son's making, had been badly singed and most likely why they had fallen.

John fell to his knees, not sure where to look. He panted harshly as his mind fought to understand. The angel was there, but Dean was not.

When the angel let out a moan, John looked up to see its eyes had opened and were staring him down.

"Son… I'm so sorry," he whispered, knowing it was all his fault.

He looked up again when the angel moved, unwrapping his wings from his body. It took him a moment to realize what the shape clutched tightly in the angel's arms was.

"Dean!" He reached out to grab his body and put an ear to the boy's chest. It was weak, barely there, but there was a heartbeat.

"He's alive! You brought him back alive!" He could hear the cheers from the hunters and possibly a few angels at the revelation.

"Thank you, for bringing back my son," John whispered to the angel.

"Well, what's left of him," he heard Bobby joke from next to him.

John saw it to. On Dean's left arm was a bright red burn in the shape of the angel's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be the first to admit this is a terrible ending, but it was the only way I could think of ending it to leave enough mystery for an eventual sequel. It wouldn't be anytime soon, but it would be cool to write something for HTTYD2 also. Anyway, the story is finally complete! It's been a wonderful story. This is officially the longest story I've ever written. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, but I'm sorry I can't write anymore Supernatural for awhile. Thank you everyone!


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